THE
CHRONICLES OF CRIME
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"in an instant xhe smile of the hostess tupned to a fcown, and.,
vrithotjt fiirtlier explanation, she exclaimed , looking over the
baj- at the same lime at my imfortunate csa^pet-ha^. JMo.sir;
"we liave no roconi; it ■wont do Jaere'. ' r,»/ ,
Ei OF CtrW'
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iiis worship, seeing- jne, said, for (Vjds sake , ,yoaiig- man, assjsi me
xi-i). I Stooped down & helped his worsiLp u.p,the female servantR
'.ousting Jiim ■behind ."
THE
CHRONICLES OF CRIME ;^^
OB,
BEING
A SERIES OF MEMOIRS AND ANECDOTES
OP
NOTOEIOUS CHARACTERS
WHO HAVE OUTRAGED THE LAWS OF GREAT BRITAIN FROM THE EARLIEST
PERIOD TO 1841.
COMPRISINO
COINERS.
HOUSEBREAKERS.
PIRATES.
EXTORTIONERS.
INCENDIARIES.
PICKPOCKETS
FORGE as.
IMPOSTORS.
RIOTERS.
FRAUDULENT BANKRUPTS.
MURDEREHS.
SliAReERS
FOOTPADS.
MUlINKEKS.
TRAITDRS.
HIGHWAYMEN.
MONEY-DROPPERS.
&e., &o.
INCLUDING
A NUMBER OF CURIOUS CASES NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED.
EMBELLISHED WITH FIFTY-TWO ENGRAVINGS.
FitOM ORIGINAL DRAWINGS BY " PHIZ."
BY CAMDEN PELHAM, ESQ.,
OF THE INNEB TEMPLE, BABEISTEB-AT-LAW.
VOL. I.
4^^ 0 LONDON ::tp
:l ' T. MILES & CO., 95, UPPER STREET.
^)1887. - /H
toNDON :
PKINTED BY J. S. VIRTUE AND CO., LIMIIED,
CITY ROAD.
SEP 1 4 1967
PREFACE.
Few words are necessary to introduce to our readers a work,
the character and the object of which are so legibly written upon its
title-page. " Chronicles of Crime " must comprise details, not only
interesting to every person concerned for the welfare of society, but
useful to the world in pointing out the consequences of guilt to be
equally dreadful and inevitable. It is to be regretted that in most of
the works of the present day, little attention is paid to the ultimate
moral or beneficial effects to be produced by them upon the public
mind; and that while every effort is made to afford amusement,
no cai'e is taken to produce those general impressions, so necessary
to the maintenance of virtue and good order. The advantages of
precept are everywhere admitted and extolled ; but still more
effectual are the lessons which are taught through the influence
of example, whose results are but too frequently fatal. The
representation of guilt with its painful and degrading consequences,
has been universally considered to be the best means of warning
youth against the danger of temptation ; — the benefits to be
expected from example are too plainly exhibited by the inflic-
tion of punishment to need repetition ; and the more generally the
effects of crime are shown, and the more the horrors which precede
vi PREFACE.
detection and the deplorable fate of the guilty are made known,
the greater is the probability that the atrocity of vice may be
abated and the security of the public promoted.
Having said thus much in recommendation of the object of this
work, a few words as to its precise character may be added.
Amusement and instruction are alike the results which are hoped
to be secured. It is admitted by men, whose desire it is to make
themselves acquainted with human nature, that jails and other
places of confinement afford them a wide field for contemplation.
The study of life, in all its varieties, is one no less interesting than
useful. The ingenuity of thieves, depicted in their crimes, is a
theme upon which all have opportunities to remark, in their
passagre through a life of communication with the world ; and no
less worthy of observation are the offences of men, whose outrages
or cruelties have rendered them amenable to the laws, framed
for the protection of society. All afford matter of contemplation
to the mind, most likely to be attended with useful results. It
may be observed that to persons of vicious inclination, effects the
opposite to those which are suggested may be produced ; but an
answer as conclusive as it is just may be given to any such remark.
The consequences of crime are as clearly exhibited as its motives
and its supposed advantages, and few are hardy enough to declare
or to exhibit a carelessness for punishment, or a contempt for the
bitter fruits of their misdeeds. Presenting an example, therefore,
of peculiar usefulness, it is trusted that the work will be found no
less interesting than instructive. Combining these two most im-
portant qualities to secure its success, it is hoped that the patron-
age afforded it will be at least commensurate with the pains which
have been bestowed upon its production.
PREFACE. Vll
It will be observed that in the preparation of these pages much
care has been taken to preserve those features only which are likely
to be acceptable to society. The most scrupulous attention has
been paid to the rejection of such instances of guilt, the circum-
stances of which might be deemed unfit for general perusal. In a
compass so circumscribed as that to which the work is confined,
it would be impossible to give the history of every criminal who
has undergone punishment for his offences, during the period to
which our Chronicles extend : neither is that the object of the
work. It is intended to embrace within its limits all those cases
wnich from their details present outlines of attraction. The earlier
pages are derived from sources of information peculiarly within
tne reach of the Editor, while those of a later period are com-
piled from known authorities as accurate as they are complete.
The comparison of the offences, and of the punishments of the
last century, with those of more recent date, will exhibit a marked
distinction between the two periods, both as to the atrocity of
the one, and the severity of the other. Those dreadful and
frequent crimes, which would disgrace the more savage tribes, and
which characterised the lives of the early objects of our criminal
proceedings, are now no longer heai'd of; and those chai-acters of
blood, in which the pages of our Statute-book were formerly
written, nave been wiped away by improved civilisation and the
milder feelino;s of the people. It is but just to say that the provi-
sions of a wise Parliament have not been unattended with proper
results. Humanity has been permitted to temper the stern
demands of justice ; and however atrocious, it must be admitted,
some of the crimes may be which have been recently perpetrated,
and however numerous the offenders, it cannot be denied that the
viii PREFACE.
general aspect of the state of crime in this country is now infinitely
less alarming than formerly.
The necessity for punishment as the consequence of crime, can
neither be doubted nor denied. Without it the bonds of society
must be broken — government in no form could be upheld. If, then,
example be the object of punishment, and peace and good order,
nay, the binding together of the community, be its effects, how
useful must be a work, whose intention is to hold out that example
which must be presumed to be the foundation of a well-ordered
society
The cases will be found to be arranged chronologically, which, it
is presumed, will afford the most satisfactory and the most eaf'y
mode of reference. This advantage is, however, increased by the
addition of copious indices.
London, July 1, 1840.
CONTENTS.
Note. — The offence mentioned opposite to each name is that alleged against the person
charged.
PAGE
Adams, Agnes. Forgery . . . 505
Alden, Marthg,. Murder . . 445
Allen, George. Murder . . 444
Allen, Willuim. Returned Trans-
port 330
ARJiiT&r.E- Richard. Forgery . . 506
Aslett, Robert. Embezzlement . 410
Atkins, James, alias JHill, alias Jack
the Painter. Arson . . . 2G9
Attaway, James. Burglary . . 226
Aram, Eugene. Murder . .168
AvEBSHAW, Lewis Jeremiah. Murder 347
Bailey, Richard. Burglary . . 226
Balfoue, Alexander. Murder . 3
Balmerino, Lord. Treason . . 107
Baltimore, Lord. Rape . .213
Barrington, George, alias Waldi'on.
Pickpocket 363
Bateman, Mary. Murder . . 458
Bellingham, John. Murder . . 527
Benson, Mary, alias Phipoe. Murder 358
Birmingham Riots (1780) . . . 326
Blackburn, Joseph. Forgery . . 575
Blake, Joseph, alias Blueskin. Burg-
lary 35
Blandy, Mary. Parricide . . 1 48
Bodkin, John, and Dominick. Mur-
der 105
Bolland, James. Forgery . . 229
Bounty, Mutiny of . . . . 328
Bourne, John. Consph-acy . . 332
Bradford, Jonathan. Murder . 107
.BjUi.NT, Mary. Returned Transport 330
Bristol, Countess of, alias Duchess of
Kingston. Bigamy . . .
Broadric, Ann. Murder
Brown, Nicol. Murder . . .
Brown, Joseph. Murder
Brownrigg, Elizabeth. Murder . .
Burt, Samuel. Forgery .
Burgh, Rev. Richard. Conspiracy .
Butcher, John. Returned Transport
BuTTERwoRTH, William. Murder
Buxton, James. Murder . ,
Caddell, George. Murder .
Cameron, Dr. Archibald. Treason
Campbell, Alexander. Murder
Campbell, Mungo. Murder
Carr, John. Forgery
Carroll, Barney. Cutting and Maim
ing
Carson, Thomas. Murder
Caulfield, Frederick. Murder .
Chandler, William. Perjury .
Charteris, Col. Francis. Rape .
Clayton, John. Burglary
Cobby, John. Murder
CIolley, Thomas. Murder
Cook, Thomas. Murder
Cooke, Arundel. Cutting and Maiming
Cooper, James. Murder
CoucuMAN, Samuel. Mutiny
Coyle, Richard. Piracy
Cox, Jane. Murder .
CuMMiNGS, John. Conspiracy
I Chosswell. John. Conspiracy .
250
343
157
456
204
316
332
330
7
154
452
227
124
197
590
141
145
76
522
127
138
8
31
454
131
84
507
332
49
CONTENTS.
PAGE
Dagoe, Hannah. Robbery . . . l'J7
Davis, James. Conspiracy . . 332
Dawson, Daniel. Poisoning Race-
horses 524
Dawson, James. Treason . .122
De Butte, Louis,.a/ia« Mercier. Mur-
der 272
Dk la Motte, Francis Heni-y. Tiea-
son . . . . . .301
Derwentwater, Earl of. Treason . 19
Despard, Col. Edward Marcus. Trea-
son . . • . . . 3f"9
DiGNUM, David Brown. Fraud . . 268
Diver, Jenny, alias Mary Young.
Pickpoclcet ..... 96
Dixo.N", Margaret. Murder . . 71
D'JD"), Dr. William. Forgery . . 274
Do.sallv, James. Robbery . . 292
DowNiE, David. Treason . . 335
Dramattf, Julin Peter. Murder . . 9
Drew, Charles. Parricide . .102
DuNXAN, William. Murder . . . 436
DuRNFORD, Abraham, Robbery . 292
Elby, William. Murder . . . 10
Emmet, Robert. Treason . . 382
Farmery, William. Murder . . 236
Farrell, James, alias Buck. Murder 202
Favey, James, alias O'Coigley. Trea-
son . . . . . . 360
Fenmng Elizabeth. Murder • . 569
Ferguson, Ricliard, alias Galloping
Dick. Robbery . , . . 371
Ferrers. Eurl. Murder . . 181
Fleet Marriages . . . . 159
Foster, George. Murder . . 380
Francis, John. Treason . . . 389
Fryer, James. Burglary . . 288
Gadesby, William. Robbery . . 325
Galloping Dick, alias Richard Fergu-
son. Robbei'y .... 371
Gardelle, Theodore. Murder . 188
Gentleman Harry, a/jas Henry Sterne.
Robbery 315
Gidley, George. Murder . .199
GbODERE, Capt. Samuel. Murder . 103
PAG8
Gordon, Thomas. Murder . . 318
Gow, John. Piracy . . .72
Grant, Jeremiah. Burglary . . 588
Gregg, William. Treason . .12
Grierson, Rev. Jno., unlawful perform-
ance of the Marriage Ceremony . 159
Griffenburg, Elizabeth. Accessory to
a Rape 213
Griffiths, William. Robbery . 234
Guest, William. Diminishing the Coin
of the Realm . . . .203
Hackman, the Rev. James. Murder 289
Hadfield, James. Treason . . 370
Hatfield, John. Forgery . . 394
Haggerty, Owen. Murder . .. 437
Hajiilton, Col John. Manslaughter 16
Ham.mond, John. Murder . .127
Hardwick, James. Conspiracy . 34.9
Harris, Sanuiel. Murder . . . 211
Harvey, Anne. Accessory to a R.ipe 213
Hawden, John. Conspiracy . . 349
Hawes, Nathaniel. Robbery . . 28
Hayden, James. Conspiracy . . 349
Hayes, Catherine. Murder • . 65
Haywood, Richard. Robbery . 417
Heald, Joseph. Murder . . 378
Hebberfield, William. Forgery . 521
Henderson, Matthew. Murder . 116
Henley, John. Conspiracy . . 349
Hill, James, alias Jack the Painter . 269
Hodges, Joseph. Cross-dropping . 351
Hollovvay, John. Murder . . 437
Holmes, John. Body-stealing . 273
Horne, William Andrew. Murder . 179
Horner, Thomas. Burglary . . 288
Housden, Jane. Murder . . 18
Hunter, the Rev. Thomas. Murder 1
Hutchinson, Amy. Murder . .133
Jackson, the Rev. Mr. Treason . 346
Jack the Painter, alias Hill. Arson 269
Jacobs, Simon. Conspiracy . . 349
Jeffries, Elizabeth. Murder . 152
Jenkins, William. Burglary . 522
Jennison, Francis. Murder . . 342
Jobbins, William. Arson . . 324
Johnson, William. Murder . . IS
Jones, Laurence. Robbery . . 333
CONTENTS.
PAGE
Arson & Murder 453
18
552
19
4
107
Kearixge, Matthew
Keele, Richard. Murder
Kendall, Richard. Robbery
Kenmure, Lord. Ti-eascn
KiDD, Capt. John. Piracy
Kilmarnock, Earl of. Treason
King, William. Cutting and Maiming 197
Kingston, Duchess of, aluis Countess of
Bristol. Bigamy. . . . 250
Knight, Thomas. Mutiny . .131
Lancey, Capt. John. Arson . . 156
Layer, Christopher. Treason . 32
Lazarus, Jacob. Murder . . . 227
Le Maitre, Peter. Steahng . . 267
Leonard, John. Rape . . . 235
Lilly, Nathaniel. Returned Trans-
port 330
LiSLE,a/iasMajor J. G. Semple. Swind-
ling 564
London, Riots of .... 295
Lovat, Lord. Treason . . .118
Lowe, Edward. Arson . . . 324
LowTHER, William. Murder . 18
Luddites, TJie 549
Magms, Harriet. Child-stealing . 510
Mauony, Matthew. Murder . . 103
Malcolm, Sarah. Murder . . 79
Male, Samuel. Robbery . . 236
Marrs, Murder of the . . .513
Martin, James. Returned Transport 330
Massey, Capt. John. Piracy . . 30
Mathison, James. Forgery . . 295
Mayne, Robert. Mutiny . .196
M'Can, Townley. Conspiracy . . 332
M'Canelly, John. Burglary . . 151
Merritt, Amos. Burglary . .237
Mercier, Francis, alias De Butte.
Murder ..... 272
Metyard, Sarah, and Sarah Morgan.
Murder 210
Mills, John. Murder . . . 132
Mills, Richard. Murder . .127
M'Ilvena, Michael. Unlawfully per-
forming the Marriage Ceremony . 560
Mitchell, Samuel Wild. Murder . 415
Mitchell, James. Murder . . 562
M'KiNLiE, Peter. Murder . . 199
M'Naughton, John. Mui-der . 191
P/.GR
Morgan, Edward. Murder and Arson 158
Morgan, John. Mutiny
Morgan, Luke. Burglary
Mutiny of the Bounty
Mutiny at THE Nore
Newton, William. Robbery
Nicholson, Philip. Murder
Nore, Mutiny at .
North, John. Murder
O'Coigley, James, alias Favey. Trea
son
Page, William. Robbery
Paleotti, Marquis de. Murder
Palmer, John. Burglary .
Parker, Richard, Mutiny
Parsons, William. Returned Trans
port ....
Patch, Richard. Murder
Perfect, Henry. Fraud
Perreau, Robert and Daniel. For-
gery
Phillips, Thomas. Robbery .
Phillips, Morgan. Murder and Arson
Phillips, John. Conspiracy .
Phipoe, Maria Theresa, alias Mary
Benson. Murder
Phipps, Thomas, sen. and jun. For-
gery ....
PiCTON, Thomas. Unlawfully apply
ing the Torture ...
PoRTEOUS, Captain John. Murder
Porter, Solomon. Murder
Price, John. Murder
Price, George. Murder .
Price, Charles. Forgery
Probin, Richard. Cross-dropping
QuiNTiN, St., Richard. Murder
Rann, John, alias Sixteen- stringed
Jack. Robbery
Ratcliffe, Charles. Treason .
Richardson, John. Pii-acy
Riots, Birmingham (1780)
Riots of London
Roach, Philip. Piracy
Ross, Norman. Murder
131
151
328
353
300
555
353
311
360
1G5
25
448
353
142
430
419
244
27
294
34.<5
358
319
423
81
227
26
87
312
351
199
242
118
84
326
295
34
136
xh
CONTENTS,
Rowan, Archibald Hamilton. Sedi-
tion 340
RuDD, ilai-garet Caroline. Forgery . 249
Ryan, John. Arson and Murder . 453
Ryland, WOliam Wynne. Forgery . 308
Sawyer, William. Murder . . SfiC
ScoLDWELL, Charles. Stealing . . 330
Semple, Major J. G. Swindling . 564
Sheeby, Father. Murder ... 202
Sheppard, James. Treason . . 24
Sheppard, John. Burglary • . 38
Simmons, Thomas. Murder . . 450
Sixteen-stringed Jack. Robbery . 242
Sligo, the Marquis of. Enticing Sea-
men from H.il. Navy . . 526
Smith, John. Robbery . . . 11
Smith, John. Mutiny . . . 195
Smith, Robert. Robbery . . . 379
Smith, Fi-ancis. Murder . . 399
Solomons, John. Conspiracy . . 349
Spencer, Barbara. Coining . . 27
Spiggot, William. Robbery . . ib.
Sterne, Henry, alias Gentleman
Harry. Robbery . . .315
Swan, John. Murder . . . . 152
Tapner, Benjamin. Murder . . 127
Terry, John. Murder . . . 378
Thomas, Charles. Forgery . . 506
Thornhill, Richard. Manslaughter 15
TiLt-EY, William. Conspii-acy . . 349
TowNLEY, Fiancis. Treason . . 122
Trusty, Christopher. Returned Trans-
port 310
Tr.'iPiN, Richard. Robbery . . 89
Tyrce, David. Treason . . . 307
.»AGB
Underwood, Thomas. Robbery 325
Vaijx, James Hardy. Privately Steal-
ing 481
Waldron, George, alias Barrington.
Pickpocket .... 363
Wall, Joseph. Murder . . . 374
W^ALSH. Benjamin. Felony . .511
Watt, Robert. Treason . . . 335
Weil, Levi and Asher. Murder . 227
White, HutFey. Robbery . . 552
White, Charles. Murder . . . 103
Whiting, Michael. Murder . . 509
Whitmore, John, alias Old Dash.
Rape 504
Wild, Jonathan. Receiving Stolen
Goods 51
Wilkinson, the Rev. Mr. Unlaw'fully
performing the JIarriage Cere-
mony 208
Wilkes, John. Sedition . . 220
Williamson, John. Murder . . 208
Williamsons, Murder of the . . 513
Williams, Peter. Body-stealing . 273
Williams, Renwick. Cutting and
Maiming 320
WiNTON, Earl of. Treason . . 19
Woodburne, John. Cutting and
Maiming . . . . . 31
Wood, Joseph. Robbery . . 325
Wood, John. Treason . . . ZS9
York, William. Murder . .127
Young, Mary, alias Jenny Diver.
Pickpocket .... 96
Zekerman, Andrew. Murder . 199
THE
CHEONICLES OF CEIME,
OR,
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
THE REV. THOMAS HUNIER.
EXECUTED FOR THE MURDER OF HIS PUPILS.
The case of this criminal, who was executed in the year 1700 for tlie
barbarous murder of his two pupils, the children of a gentleman named
^ordon, an emment merchant, and a baillie, or alderman of the City of
Edmburgh, IS the first on our record; and, certainly, for its atrocity,
deserve^ to be placed at the head of the list of offences which follows its
melancholy recital. From the title of the oiFender, it will be seen that he
was a preacher of the word of God ; and that a person in his situation in
life should sufi-er so ignominious an end for such a crime, is indeed extraor-
dinary; but how niuch more horrible is the fact which is related to us, that
on the scaffold when all hope of life and of repentance was past, he ex-
pressed his disbelief in that God whom it was his profession to uphold
and whose omnipotence it had been his duty to teach !
The malefactor, it would appear, was born of most respectable parents,
lis father being a rich farmer in the county of Fife, and at an early age
he wassenttotheUmversity of St. Andrew's for his education. His success
m the pursuit of classical knowledge soon enabled him to take the degree
of Master of Arts, and his subsequent study of divinity was attended with
as fayourable results Upon his quitting college, in accordance with the
practice of the time he entered the service of Mr. Gordon in the capacity
of chaplain, m whicn situation it became his duty to instruct the sons of
his employer, children respectively of the ages of eight and ten years. The
family consisted of Mr. and Mrs. Gordon, the two boys, their sister (a girl
mT^p' \^'' themse ves), Mr. Hunter, a young woman who attended upon
Mrs. Gordon and the usual menial servants. The attention of Hunter
was attracted by the comeliness of the lady's-maid, and a connexion of a
trmimai nature was soon commenced between them. The accidental dis-
covery of this intrigue by the three children, was the ultimate cause of the
deliberate murder of two of them by their tutor.
The young woman and Hunter had retired to the apartment of the
latter but, having omitted to fasten the door, the children entered and saw
enough to excite surprise in their young minds. In their conversation
VOL. I.
2 NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
subsequently at meal-time, they said so much as convinced their parents
of what had taken place, and the servant-girl was instantly dismissed ;
while the chaplain, who had always been considered to be a person of mild
and amiable disposition and of great genius, was permitted to remain, upon
his making such amends to the family as were in his power, by apologir'ing
for .1 is Ludiscretion, From this moment, however, an inveterate hatred
for the childi'en arose in his breast, and he determiued to satisfy his revenge
upon them by murdering them all. Chance for some time marred his plans,
but he was at length enabled to put them into execution as regarded the
two boys. It appears that he was in the habit of taking them t ) walk in
the fields before dinner, and the girl on euch occasions usually accompanied
them, but at the time at which the murder of her brothers was perpe-
trated she was prevented from going with them. They were at the country-
seat of IMr. Gordon, situated at a short distance only from Edinburgh, and an
invitation having been received for the whole family to dine in that city,
Mrs. Gordon desired that all the children might accompany her and her
husband. The latter, however, opposed the execution of this plan, and the
little girl only was permitted to go with her parents. The intention of the
murderer to destroy all the children was by this means frustrated ; but he
still persevered in his bloody purpose with regard to the sons of his bene-
factor, whom he determined to murder while they were yet in his power.
Proceeding with them in their customary walks, they all sat down together
to rest; but the boys soon quitted their tutor to catch butterflies, and to
gather the wild flowers which grew in abundance around them. Their
aiurdei'er was at that moment engaged in preparing the weapon for their
slaughter, and presently calling them to him, he reprimanded them for
disclosing to their parents the particulars of the scene which they had wit-
nessed, and declared his intention to put them to death. Terrified by this
threat, they ran from him; but he pursued and overtook them, and then
throwing one of them on the ground and placing his knee on his chest, he
soon despatched his brother by cutting his throat with a penknife. This
first victim disposed of, he speedily completed his fell purpose, with regard
to the child whose person he had already secured. The deed, it will be
observed, was perpetrated in open day ; and it would have been remarkable,
indeed, if, within half a mile of the chief city of Scotland, there had been
no human eye to see so horrible an act. A gentleman who was walking
on the Castle Hill had a tolerable view of what passed, and immediately
ran to the spot where the deceased children were lying ; giving tlie alarn?
as he went along, in order that the murderer might be secured. The latter,
having accomplished his object, proceeded towards tlie river to drown
himself, but was prevented from fulfilling his intention ; and having
been seized, he was soon placed in safe custody, intelligence of the frightful
event being meanwhile conveyed to the parents of the unhappy children.
The ]:nsoner was within a few days brought to trial, under the old
Scottish law, by which it was provided that a murderer, being found witli
the blood of his victim on his clothes, should be proseciited in the Sherift"s
Court, and executed within three days. The frightful nature of the case
rendered it scarcely uncharitable to pursue a law so vigorous according to
its letter, and a jury having been accordingly impanelled, the prisoner was
brought to trial, and pleaded guilty, adding the horrible announcement of
his regret that Miss Gordon had escaped from his revenge. The sentence
NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
of death was passed upon the culprit by the sheriff, but it was directed to
be carried into effect with the additional terms, that the prisoner should
first have his right hand struck oft'; tliat he should then be drawn up to
the gibbet, erected near the locality of the murder, by a rope ; and that
after execution, he should be hanged in chains, between Edinburgh and
Leith, the weapon of destruction being passed through his hand, wliich
should be advanced over his head, and fixed to the top of the gibbet. The
sentence, barbarous as it may now appear, was carried into full execution
on the 2*2nd of August, 1700 ; and frightful to relate, he, who in life had
professed to be a teacher of the Gospel, on his scaffold declared himself to
be an Atheist. His words were, " There is no God — or if there be, I
hold him in defiance.' The body of the executed man, having been at first
suspended in chains according to the proti?D terms of his sentence, was
subsequently, at the desire of Mr. Gordon, reU) loved to the outskirts of
the village of Broughton, near Edinburgh.
ALEXANDER BALFOUR.
CONVICTED OF MURDER.
The case of this criminal is worthy of some attention, from the very
remarkable circumstances by which it was attended. The subject of this
sketch was born in 1687, at the seat of his father. Lord Burley, near
Kinross ; and having studied successively at Orwell, near the place of his
birth, and at St. Andrews, so successfully as to obtain considerable credit,
he returned home, being intended by his father to join the army of the Duke
of Marlborough, then in Flanders. Here he became enamoured of ISliss
Robertson, the governess of his sisters, however ; and in order to break off
the connexion he was sent to make the tour through France and Italy, thi
young lady being dismissed from the house of her patron. Balfour, befort
his quitting Scotland, declared his intention, if ever the young lady should
marry, to murder her husband ; but deeming this to be merely an empty
threat, she was, during his absence, united to a IMr. Syme, with whom she
went to live at Inverkeithing. On his return to his father's house, he
learned this fact, and immediately proceeded to put his threat into execu-
tion. Mrs. Syme, on seeing him, remembering his expressed determination,
screamed with affright ; but her husband, unconscious of offence, advanced
to her aid, and in the interim, Balfour entering the room, shot him through
the heart. The offender escaped, but was soon afterwards appreliended
near Edinburgh ; and being tried, was convicted and sentenced to be be-
headed by the maiden *, on account of the nobility of his family.
• Different countries have different modes of inflicting capital punishments. Belieading was
a militaiy punishment among the Romans, known by the name of decollatio. Among them
the head was laid on a cippus, or block, placed in a pit dug for the purpose ; in the army,
without the vallum ; in the city, -nithout the walls, at t place near the porta decumana.
Preparatory to the stroke, the criminal was tied to a stake, and whipped with rods. In the
early ages the blow was given with an axe ; but in after-times with a sword, which was thought
the more reputable manner of dying. The execution was but clumsily performed in the lirst
times; but afterwards they grew more expert, and took the head off clean, with one circular
Mroke.
In England, beheading is the punishment of nobles; being reputed not to derogate from
KEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
The subsequent escape of the criminal from au ignominious end is n.'4
the least remarkable part of his case. The scafltbld was actually erected
for the purpose of his execution ; but on the day before it was to take place
his sister went to visit him, and, being very like him in face and stature,
they changed clothes, and he escaped from pi'ison. His friends havinor
provided horses for him, he proceeded to a distant village, where he lay
concealed until an opportunity was eventually offered him of quitting the
kingdom. His father died in the reign of Queen Anne, but he had first
obtained a pardon for his son, who succeeded to tlie title and honours of
tlie fixmily, and died in the year 1752, sincerely penitent for his crime.
CAPTAIN JOHN KIDD,
SURNAMED THE WIZARD OF THE SEAS, AND DARliY MULLINS.
HANGED FOR PIRACY.
The first-named subject of this memoir was born at Greenock, m
Scotland, and was bred to the sea ; and quitting his native land at an
early age, he resided at New York, where he eventually became possessed
uobility, .IS luinging docs. In France, during the revolutionary government, the practice of
beheading by means of an instrument cilled a guillotine (so denominated from the n.-ime of
its inventor) was exceedingly general. It resembles a kind of instrument long since used foi
the same purpose in Scotland, and called a maiden.
It is universally known, that, at the execution of King Charles the First, a man in a vizor
performed the office of executioner. This circumstance has given rise to a variety of conjectures
and accouT.ts ; in some of which, one William Walker is said to be the executioner; in others,
it is supposed to be a Richard Brandon, of whom a long account was published in an Exeter
newspaper of 1784. But William Lilly, ii. his "History of his Life and Times," has the
foIlo\ving remarkable passage. " Many have curiously inquired who it was that cut off his (the
king's) head : I have no permission to speak of such things ; only J, us much I say, he that
did it, is as valiant and resolute a man as lives, and one of a coiLjttent fortune." When
examined before the j arliament of Charles II., he states, " That the next Sunday but one after
Charles the First was beheaded, Robert Spavin, secretary to Lieutenant-Gcneral Cromwell at
that time, in\ited himself to dine with me, and brought Anthony Pierson and several others
along with him to dinner. That their principal discourse all dinner time was only who it was
that beheaded the king. One said it was the common hangman ; another, Hugh Peters ; others
also were nominated, but none concluded. Robert Spa^•^n, so soon as dinner was done, took
me by the hand and carried me to tlie south window : saith lie, ' These are all mistaken; the)
have not named the man that did the fact ; it was Lieut. Colonel Joice. I was in the room
wLen he fitted himself for the work; stood behind him when he did it; when done, went in
with him again. There is no man knows this but my master, (viz. Cromwell.) Commissary
Ireton, and myself.' — 'Doth not Mr. Rushworth know it.?' saith I. — 'No, he doth not
know it,' saith Spavin. The same thing Spavin hath often related to me when we were
alone."
The following description of the Maiden, by Mr. Pennant, may not prove uninteresting : —
" This machine of deaili is now destroyed ; but I saw one of the same kind in a room under the
Parliament-house in Ediubui-gh, where it was introduced by the Regent !Morton, who took a
model of it as he passed through Halifax, and at length suffered by it himself. It is in form
of a painter's easel, and about ten feet high; at four feet from the bottom is the cross bar on
which the felon lays his head, which is kept down by another placed above. In the inner
edges of the frame are grooves ; in these is placed a sharp axe, with a vast weight of lead, sup-
ported at tlie very summit with a peg : to that peg is fastened a cord, which the executioner
catting, the axe falls, and does the affair effectually, without suffering the unhappy criminal to
undergo a repetition of strokes, as has been the case in the common method. 1 must .idd, that
if the sufferer is condemned for stealing a horse or cow, the string is tied to the 'oeast, which,
on being whipped, puile out the peg, and becomes the executioner."
NEW NEWGATK CaLKND.VR. 5
of a small vessel, with which he traded among the pirates, and obtained a
eomplete knowledge of their haunts. Ilis ruling passion was avarice,
although he was not destitute of tliat courage which became necessary in
the profession in which he eventually embarked. His frequent remarks
upon the subject of piracy, and the fiicility with which it might be
checked, having attracted the attention of some considerable planters, who
had recently suffered from the depredations of the marauders who infested
the seas of the AVest Indies, obtained for him a name which eventually
proved of great service to him. The constant and daring interruption:^
offered to trading ships, encouraged as they were by the inhabitants of
North America, who were not loath to profit by the irregularities of the
pirates, having attracted the attention of the Government, the Earl of
Bellamont, an Irish nobleman of distinguished character and abilities, was
sent out to take charge of the government of New England and New York,
with special instructions upon the subject of these marine depredators.
Colonel Livingston, a gentleman of property and consideration, was con-
sulted upon the subject by the governor ; and Kidd, who was then
possessed of a sloop of his own, was recommended as a fit ])erson to be
employed against the pirates. The suggestion met the approbation of Lord
Bellamont ; but the unsettled state of public aff.iirs rendered the further
intervention of Government impossible; and a private company, consisting
of the Duke of Slirewsbury, the Lord Chancellor Somers, the Earls of
Romney and Oxford, Colonel Livingston, and other persons of rank, agreed
to raise 6000/. to pay the expenses of a voyage, the purpose of which was
to be directed to the removal of the existing evil ; and it was agreed that
the Colonel and Capt. Kidd, who was to have charge of the expedition,
should receive one-fifth of the profits. A commission was then prepared
for Kidd, directing him to seize and take pirates, and to bring them to
justice ; but the further proceedings of the Captain, and of his officers,
were left unprovided for.
A vessel was purchased and manned, and she sailed under the name of
the " Adventure," from London for New York, at the end of the year 1695.
A French ship was seized as a prize during the voyage ; and the vessel
subsequently proceeded to the Madeira Islands, to Buonavista, and St.
Jago, and thence to ]Madagascar, in search of further spoil. A second prize
was subsequently made at Calicut, of a vessel of 130 tons burden, which
was sold at Madagascar ; and, at the termination of a few weeks, the
" Adventure " made prize of the " Quedah Merchant," a vessel of 400
tons burden, commanded by an Engbshman named Wright, and officered
by two Dutch mates and a French gunner, and whose crew consisted of
Moors. Tiie captain having carried this vessel into IMadagascar, he burned
the " Adventure," and then proceeded to divide the lading of the prize
with his crew, taking forty shares for himself.
He seems now to have determined to act entirely apart from his owners,
and he accordingly sailed in the " Quedah jNIerchant " to the West Indies.
At Anguilla and St. Thomas's, he was refused refreshments; but he
eventually succeeded in obtaining supplies at J\Iona, between Porto Rico
and liispaniola, through the instrumentality of an Englishman named
Button. This man, who thus at first affected to be friendly to the pirate,
eoon showed the extent to which his friendship was to be relied upon. He
Bold a sloop to Kidd, in which the latter sailed, leaving the " Quedah
U MEW NEWGATE CALENDAR
Merchant" in his care ; but on proceeding to Boston, New England, he
found his friend there before him, having disposed of the " Quedah
JMercliant" to the Spaniards, and having besides given information of his
piratical expedition. He was now immediately seized by order of Lord
Bellamont, before whom he endeavoured to justify his proceedings, by
contending that he had taken none but lawful prizes ; but his lordship
transmitted an account of the whole transaction to England, requiring that
a ship might be sent to convey Kidd home, in order that he might be
punished. A great clamour arose upon this, and attempts were made to
show that the proceedings of the pirate had been connived at by the
projectors of the undertaking, and a motion was made in the House of
Commons, that " The letters- patent granted to the Earl of Bellamont and
others, respecting the goods taken from pirates, were dishonourable to the
king, against the law of nations, contrary to the laws and statutes of this
realm, an invasion of property, and destructive to commerce." Though a
negative was put on this motion, yet the enemies of Lord Somers and the
Earl of Oxford continued to charge those noblemen with giving counten-
ance to pirates ; and it was even insinuated that the Earl of Bellamont was
not less culpable than the actual offenders. Another motion was in con-
sequence made to address his Majesty, that " Kidd might not be tried till
the next session of parliament ; and that the Earl of Bellamont might be
directed to send home all examinations and other papers relative to the
affair." This was carried, and the king complied with the request which
was made. As soon as Kidd arrived in England, he was sent for, and
examined at the bar of the house, with a view to show the guilt of the
parties who had been concerned in sending him on the expedition ; but
nothing arose to criminate any of those distinguished persons. Kidd, who
was in some degi'ee intoxicated, made a contemptible appearance at the
bar of the house ; and a member, who had been one of the most earnest
to have him examined, violently exclaimed, " I thought the fellow had
been only a knave, but unfortunately he happens to be a fool likewise."
Kidd was at length tried at the Old Bailey, and was convicted on the
clearest evidence ; but neither at that time, nor afterwards, did he charge
any of his employers with being privy to his infamous proceedings.
He was executed with one of his companions, at Execution Dock, on
the 23d of May, 1701. After he had been tied up to the gallows, the rope
broke, and he fell to the ground ; but being immediately tied up again, the
Ordinary, who had before exhorted him, desired to speak with him once
more ; and, on this second application, entreated him to make the most
careful use of the few further moments thus providentially allotted to him
for the final preparation of his soul to meet its important change. These
exhortations appeared to have the wished-for effect ; and he died, profess-
ing his charity to all the world, and his hopes of salvation through the
merits of his Redeemer.
The companion in crime of this malefactor, and his companion also at
the gallows, was named Darby IMullins. He was bora in a village in the
north of Ireland, about sixteen miles from Londonderry ; and having
resided with his father, and followed the business of husbandry till he was
about eighteen, the old man then died, and the young one went to Dublin :
lint he had not been long there before he was enticed to go to the West
Indies, where he was sold to a planter, witli whom he resided four years.
NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 7
At the expiration of that term he became his own master, and followed
the business of a waterman, in whicli he saved money enough to purchase
a small vessel, in which he traded from one island to another, till tlie time
of the earthquake at Jamaica in the year 1691, from the effects of which
he was preserved in a miraculous manner. He afterwards went to
Kiuorston, where he kept a punch-house, and then proceeding to New
York, he married ; but at the end of two years his wife dying, he unfor-
tunately fell into company with Kidd, and joined him in liis piratical
])ractices. He w^as apprehended, with his commander, and, as we have
already stated, suffered the extreme penalty of the law with him.
GEORGE CADDELL.
EXECUTED FOR THE MURDER OF MISS PRICE, WHOM HE HAD SEDUCED.
This delinquent was a native of Bromsgrove, in Worcestershire, where
he was articled to an apothecary. Having served his time, he proceeded
to London to complete his studies in surgery, and he then entered the
service of ^Ir. Randall, a surgeon at Worcester, as an assistant. He was
here admired for his extremely amiable character, as well as for the abilities
which he possessed ; and he married the daughter of his employer, who,
iiowever, died in giving birth to her first child. He subsequently resided
with Mr. Deau, a surgeon at Lichfield ; and during his employment by
that gentleman he became enamoured of his daughter, and would have
been married to her, but for the commission of the crime which cost him
his life.
It would appear that he had become acquainted with a young woman
named Elizabeth Price, who had been seduced by an ofl&cer in the army,
and who supported herself by her skill in needle -woi'k, residing near Mr.
Caddell's abode. An intimacy subsisted between them, the result of which
was the pregnancy of IMiss Price ; and she repeatedly urged her paramour
to marry her. ]\Ir. Caddell resisted her importunities for a considerable
time, until at last Miss Price, hearing of his paying his addresses to Miss
Oean, became more importunate than ever, and threatened, in case of his
non-compliance with her wishes, to put an end to all his prospects with
that young lady, by discovering everything that had passed between them.
Hereupon Caddell formed the horrid resolution of murdering Miss Price.
He accordingly called on her on a Saturday evening, and requested that
she would walk in the fields with him on the afternoon of the following
day, in order to adjust the plan of their intended marriage. Thus deluded,
she met him at the time appointed, on the road leading towards Burton-
upon- Trent, at the Nag's Head public-house, and accompanied her supposed
lover into the fields. They walked about till towards evening, when they
sat down under the hedge, and after a little conversation, Caddell suddenly
pulled out a knife, cut the w^retched woman's throat, and made his escape
In the distraction of his mind, he left behind him the knife with whicli he had
perpetrated the deed, together with his case of instruments. On his returning
home it was observed that he appeared exceedingly confused, though the
reason of the perturbation of his mind could not be guessed at ; but, on the
follomng morning. Miss Price being found murdered in the field, great
NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
numbers of peopie went to see the body. Among tliem was the woman
of tlie house where she lodged, who recollected that she had said she was
going to walk with Mr. Caddell ; and then the instniments were examined,
and were known to have belonged to him. He was in consequence taken
into custody, and committed to the gaol of Staflford ; and, beinw soon
afterwards tried, was found guilty, condemned, and executed at Stafford
on the 21st of July, 1701.
THOMAS COOK.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
The death of this person exhibits the singular fatality which attends some
men who have been guilty of crime. Cook was the son of a butcher, who
was considered a person of respectability, residing at Gloucester. He was
apprenticed to a barber-surgeon in London ; but nmning away before his
time had expired, he entered the service of one of the pages of honoilr to
"William III.; but he soon after quitted this situation to set up at Gloucester
as a butcher, upon the recommendation of his mother.
Restless, however, in every station oflife, he repaired to London, where
he commenced prize-fighter at May-fair ; which, at this time, was a place
greatly frequented by prize-fighters, thieves, and women of bad ctiaracter.
Here puppet-shows were exhibited, and it was the favourite resort of all
the profligate and abandoned, until at length the nuisance increased to such a
degree, that Queen Anne issued her Proclamation for the Suppression of
Vice and Immorality, wnth a particular view to this fair ; in consequence of
which the justices of peace issued their warrant to the high constable, who
summoned all the inferior constables to his assistance. When they came
to suppress the fair, Cook, with a mob of about thirty soldiers, and other
persons, stood in defiance of the peace-officers, and threw brickbats at them,
by which some of them were wounded. Cooper, a constable, being the
most active. Cook drew his sword and stabbed him in the belly, and he
died of the wound at the expiration of four days. Hereupon Cook fled to
Ireland, and, as it was deposed upon his trial, while he was in a public
house, he swore in a profane manner, for which the landlord censured him,
and told him there were persons in the house who would take him in cus-
tody for it ; to which he ansv/ered, " Are there any of the informing dogs
in Ireland ? we in London drive them ; for at a fair called May-fair,
there was a noise which I went out to see — six soldiers and myself — the
constables played their parts with their staves, and I played mine;
and, when the man dropped, I wiped my sword, put it up, and went
away."
The fellow was, subsequently, taken into custody, and sent to Chester,
whence being removed to London, he was tried at the Old Bailey, was
convicted, and received sentence of death.
After conviction he solemnly denied the crime for which he had been
condemned, declaring that he had no sword in his hand on the day the
constable was killed, and was not in company with those who killed him.
Havinff received the sacrament on the 2 1st of July, 1703, he was taken
from Newgate to be carried to Tyburn ; but, when he had got to Hi^h
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
Hnlborn, opposite Bloomsbury, a respite arrived for him till the follow-
ing Friday. On his return to Newgate he was visited by numbers of
his acquaintance, who rejoiced on his narrow escape. On Friday he
received another respite till the 11th of August, but on that day he was
executed.
JOHN PETER DRAMATTI.
EXECUTED FOR THE MURDER OF HIS WIFE.
This unfortunate man was the son of Protestant parents, and was
l>orn at Saverdun, in the county of Foix, and province of Languedoc, in
France. He received a religious education ; but when he arrived at years
of maturity, he left his own country, and went into Germany, where he
served as a horse-grenadier under the Elector of Brandenburgh, who was
afterwards King of Prussia. When he had been in this condition about a
vf^ar^'he came over to England, and entered into the service of Lord
Haversham, and afterwards enlisted as a soldier in the regiment of Colonel
de la Meloniere. Having made two campaigns in Flanders, the regiment
was ordered into Ireland, where it was dismissed from farther service ; in
consequence of which Dramatti obtained his discharge.
He now became acquainted with a widow, between fifty and sixty years
of age, who pretended that she had a great fortune, and was allied to the
royal family of France; and he soon married her, not only on account of her
supposed wealth and rank, but also of her understanding English and Irish,
thinking it prudent to have a wife who could speak the language of the
country in which he proposed to spend the remainder of his life. As
soon as he discovered that his wife had no fortune, he went to London
and offered his services to Lord Haversham, and was again admitted as
one of his domestics. His wife, unhappy on account of their separate
residence, wished to live with him at Lord Haversham's, which he
would not consent to, saying, that his lordship did not know he was
married.
The wnfe now began to evince the jealousy of her disposition, and fre-
quent quarrels took place between them, because he was unable to be with
her so freqiiently as she desired.
At length, on the 9tli of June, 1703, Dramatti was sent to London from
his master's house at Kensington, and calling upon his wife at her lodgings
near Soho-square, she endeavoured to prevail upon him to stay with her.
This, however, he refused ; and finding that he was going home, she went
before him, and stationed herself at the Park-gate. On his coming up,
she declared that he should go no further, unless she accompanied him ;
but he quitted her abruptly, and went onwards to Chelsea. She p\irsued
him to the Bloody Bridge, and there seized him by the neckcloth, and
would have strangled him, but that he beat her off with his cane. He then
attacked her with his sword ; and having wounded her in so many places
as to conclude that he had killed her, his passion immediately began to
subside, and, falling on his knees, he devoutly implored the pardon of God
for the horrid sin of which he had been guilty. He went on to Kensing-
ton, where his fellow-servants observing that his clothes were bloody, he
VOL. I. c
10 TUK NEW NEWGATE CALENOAU.
siaid he had been attacked by two men in Hyde Park, who woald hav*
robbed him of his clothes, but that he defended himself, and broke tVie
head of one of them.
The real fact, however, was subsequently discovered ; and Draniatti
bcmcr taken before a magistrate, to whom he confessed his crime, the boay
of Ins wife was found in a ditch betw^een Hyde Park and Chelsea, and a
track of blood was seen to the distance of twenty yards ; at the end of which
a piece of a sword was found sticking in a bank, which fitted the other
part of the sword in the prisoner's possession. The circumstances attending
the murder being proved to the satisfaction of the jury, the culprit was
found guilty, condemned, and, on the 21st of July, 1 70^3, was executed at
Tvbum.
WILLIAM ELBY.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
This vouno- man was born m the year 1667, at Deptford, in Kent, Aud
served his time with a blockmaker at Rotherhithe, during which he becanr;
acquainted with some women of ill fame. After the term of his appren-
ticeship had expired, he kept company with young fellows of such bad
character, that he found it necessary to enter on board a ship to prevent
worse consequences. Having returned from sea, he enlisted as a soldier ;
but while in this situation he committed many small thefts, in order to
support the women with whom he was connected. At length he deserted
from the army, assumed a new name, and prevailed on some of his com
panions to engage in housebreaking.
Detection soon terminated his career, and in September 1704, he was
indicted for robbing the house of Barry, Esq. of Fulham, and
murdering his gardener. Elby, it seems, having determined on robbing
the house, arrived at Fulham soon after midnight, and had wrenched open
one of the windows, at which he was getting in, when the gardener,
awaking, came down to prevent the intended robbery with a light in liis
liand. Elbv, terrified lest he should be known, seized a knife and stabbed
him to the heart, and the poor man immediately fell dead at his feet.
This done, he broke open a chest of drawers, and stole about two
hundred and fifty pounds, with which he repaired to his associates in
London.
The murder soon became the subject of very general conversation, and
Elby being at a public-house iu the Strand, it was mentioned, and he
became so alai-med on seeing one of the company rise and quit the house,
that he suddenly ran away, without paying his reckoning. The landlord
was enraged at his being cheated ; and learning his address from one of
his companions, he caused him to be apprehended, and he was eventually
committed for trial on suspicion of being concerned in the robbery and
murder.
On his trial he steadily denied the perpetration of the crimes with which
he was charged ; and his conviction would have been very doubtful, had
uot a woman with whom he cohabited become an evidence, and sworn that
he came from Fulham with the money the morning after the commission
of ihe fact. Some other persons also deposed that they saw him come
THE NEW NEWGATE CALETSDAR, 11
out ot Mr. Barry's house on the morning the murder was committed ;
and he was found guilty, and having received sentence of death, was
executed at Fulham, on the 13th September, 1704, and was hung in
cnains near the same place.
JOHN SMITH.
CONVICTED OF ROBBERY.
Though the crimes committed by this man were not particularly
atrocious, nor his life sufficiently remarkable for a place in this work, yet
the circumstances attending his fate at the place of execution are perhaps
more singulai- than any we may have to record. He was the son of a
farmer at IMalton, about fifteen miles from the city of York, who bound
him apprentice to a packer in London, with whom he served his time, and
afterwards worked as a journeyman. He then went to sea on board a man-
of-war, and was at the expedition against Vigo; but on his return from
that service he was discharged. He afterwards enlisted as a soldier in
the regiment of Guards commanded by Lord Cutts ; but in this station he
soon made bad connexions, and engaged with some of his dissolute com-
panions as a housebreaker. On the 5th of December, 1705, he was
arraigned on four different indictments, on two of which he was convicted.
While he lay under sentence of death, he seemed very little affected with
his situation, absolutely depending on a reprieve, through the interest of
his friends. An order, however, came for his execution on the 24th day
of the same month, in consequence of which he was carried to Tyburn,
where he performed his devotions, and was turned off in the usual manner ;
but when he had hung near fifteen minutes, the people present cried out,
" A reprieve !" Hereupon the malefactor was cut down, and, being
conveyed to a house in the neighbourhood, he soon revived, upon his being
bled, and other proper remedies applied.
When he perfectly recovered his senses, he was asked what were his
feelings at the time of execution ; to which he repeatedly replied, in
substance, as follows : — " That when he was turned off, he, for some time,
was sensible of ver}'' great pain, occasioned by the weight of his body, and
felt his spirits in a strange commotion, violently pressing upwards ; that
having forced their way to his head, he, as it were, saw a great blaze, or
.glaring light, which seemed to go out at his eyes with a flash, and then he
lost all sense of pain. That after he was cut down, and began to come to
himself, the blood and spirits, forcing themselves into their former cliannels,
put him, by a sort of pricking or shooting, to such intolerable pain, that
he could have wished those hanged who had cut him down." From this
circumstance he was called " Half-hanged Smith." After this narrow
escape from the grave. Smith pleaded to his pardon on the 20tli of
February, and was discharged ; yet such was his propensity to evil deeds,
that he returned to his former practices, and, being apprehended, was again
tried at the Old Bailey, for housebreaking ; but some difficulties arising in the
case, the affair was left to the opinion of the twelve judges, who determined
in favour of the prisoner. After this second extraordinary escape, he was
a third time indicted ; but the yrosecutor happenmg to die before the day
12 niE NEW NfWGATE CALENDAR.
of trial, he once more obtained that libei'ty wliich his conduct phowe'^ ^e
had not deserved.
yVo have no account of what became of tliis man after tliis third reraaric-
able incident in his favour ; but Christian charity inclines us to hone trat
he made a proper use of the singular dispensation of Providence evidenced
in his own person.
It was not unfrequently the case, that, in Dublin, men were formerly
seen walking about who, it was known, had been sentenced to suffer the
extreme penalty of the law, and upon whom, strange as it may appear to
im(>nlightened eyes, the sentence had been carried out. The custom until
lately was, that the body should hang only half an hour; and, in a mis-
taken lenity, tlie sheriff, in whose hands was entrusted the execution of
the law, would look away, after the prisoner had been turned off, while
tlie friends of the culprit would hold up their companion by the waistband
of his breeches, so that the rope sliould not press upon his throat. They
would, at the expiration of the usual time, thrust their " deceased" friend
into a cart, in which they would gallop him over all the stones and rough
ground they came near, which was supposed to be a never-failing recipe.
in order to revive him, professedly, and indeed in reality, with the intention
of "waking" him. An anecdote is related of a fellow named ]\lahony,
who had been convicted of the murder of a Connaught-man, in one of the
numerous 3Iunster and Connaught wars, and whose execution had been
managed in the manner above described ; who, being put into the cart
in a coffin by his Munster friends, on his way home was so revived, and
so overjoyed at finding himself still alive, that he sat upright and gave
three hearty cheers, by way of assuring his friends of his safety. A
" jontleman " who was shocked at this indecent conduct in his defunct
companion, and who was, besides, afraid of their scheme being discovered
and thwarted, immediately, w'ith the sapling which he carried, hit him a
thump on the head, which effectually silenced his self-congratulations. On
their arrival at home, they found that the " friendly " warning which had
been given to the poor wretch, had been more effectual than the hangman's
rope ; and the wailings and lamentations which had been employed at the
place of execution to drown the encouraging cries of the aiders of the cri-
minal's escape, were called forth in reality at his wake on the same night.
It was afterwards a matter of doubt whether ^he fellow who dealt the
unfortunate blow ought not to have been charged with the murder of his
half- hanged companion; but "a justice" being consulted, it was thought
no one could be successfully charged with the murder of a man wlio
was already dead in law.
WILLIAM GREGG.
EXECUTED FOR HIGH TREASON.
The treason of which this offender was convicted was that of " adhering
to the Queen's enemies, and giving them aid, without the realm," which
was made a capital offence by the statute of Edward III.
It appears tliat Gregg was a native of JNIontrose, in Scotland, and having
received such instruction as the grammar-schools of the place afforded, he
^^
TUE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 13
oompletcd his education at Aberdeen university, where he pursued these
studies which were calculated to fit him for the profession of the church,
for which he was intended. London, however, held forth so many attrac-
tions to his youthful eye, that the wishes of his relatives were soon
overruled ; and having visited that city, Avith good introductions, he was,
after some time, appointed secretary to the ambassador at the court oi
Sweden. But while performing the duties of his office, he was guilty
of so many and so great excesses, that he was at length compelled to retire,
and London once more became his residence. His good fortune placed
him in a situation alike honourable and profitable, but his dishonest and
traitorous conduct in his employment, was such as to cost him his life,
and to involve his employers in political difficulties of no ordinary kind.
Having been engaged by Mr. Secretary Harley, minister of the reigning
sovereign. Queen Anne, to write despatches, he took advantage of the
knowledge which he thus gained, and voluntarily opened a communication
with the enemies of his country. England, it will be remembered, was at
this time in a situation of no ordinary difficulty; and the position of her
Majesty's ministers, harassed as they were by the opposition of their
political antagonists, was rendered even more difficult by the disclosures of
their traitorous servant.
We shall take the advantage affin-ded us by Bishop Burnet's History,
of laying before our readers a more authentic account of this transaction
than is given by the usual channels of information to which we have
access. He says, " At this time two discoveries were made very unlucky
for Mr. Harley : Tallard wrote often to Chamillard, but he sent the letters
open to the secretary's office, to be perused and sealed up, and so be con-
veyed by the way of Holland. These were opened upon some suspicion
in Holland, and it appeared that one in the secretary's office put letters in
them, in which, as he oftered his services to the courts of France and St.
Germains, so he gave an account of all transactions here. In one of these
he sent a copy of the letter that the Queen was to write in her own hand
to the Emperor; and he marked what parts were drawn by the secretary,
and what additions were made to it by the lord treasurer. This was the
letter by which the Queen pressed the sending Prince Eugene into Spain ;
and tliis, if not intercepted, would have been at Versailles many days before
it could reach Vienna.
" He wdio sent this wrote, that by this they might see what service he
could do them, if well encouraged. All this was sent over to the Duke of
Marlborough ; and, upon search, it was found to be written by one Gregg,
a clerk, whom Harley had not only entertained, but had taken into a
particular confidence, without inquiring into the former parts of his life ;
for he was a vicious and necessitous person, who had been secretary to the
Queen's envoy in Denmark, but was dismissed by him for his ill qualities.
Harley had made use of him to get him intelligence, and he came to trust
him with the perusal and sealing up of the letters, which the French
prisoners, here in England, sent over to Fi'ance ; and by that means he gof,
into the method of sending intelligence thither. He, when seized on, either
ui)on remorse or hopes of pardon, confessed all, and signed his confession :
apon that he was tried, and, pleading guilty, was condemned as a traitor,
for corresponding with the Queen's enemies.
" At the same time Valiere and Bara, whom Harley had employed as
!4 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
nis spies to go often over to Calais, under the pretence of bringinc him
intelligence, were informed against, as spies employed by France to get
intelligence from England, who earned over many letters to Calais and
Boulogne, and, as was believed, gave such information of our trade and
convoys, that by their means we had made our great losses at sea. They
were often complained of upon suspicion, but they were always protected
by Harley ; yet the presumptions against them were so violent, that thev
were at last seized on, and brought up prisoners."
The Whigs took such advantage of this circumstance, that Mr. Harley
was obliged to resign ; and his enemies were inclined to carry matters still
further, and were resolved, if possible, to find out evidence enough to affect
his life. AV'ith this view, the House of Lords ordered a committee to
examine Gregg and the other prisoners, who were very assiduous in the
discharge of their commission, as will appear by the following account,
written by the same author : —
" The Lords who were appointed to examine Gregg could not find out
much by him : he had but newly begun his designs of betraying secrets,
and he had no associates with him in it. He told them that all the papers
of state lay so carelessly about the office that every one belonging to it,
even the door-keepers, m.ight have read them all. Harley's custom was
to come to the office late on post-nights, and, after he had given his orders,
and wrote his letters, he usually went away, and left all to be copied out
when he was gone. By that means he came to see every thing, in
particular the Queen's letter to the Emperor. He said he knew the design
on Toulon in May last, but he did not discover it ; for he had not entered
on his ill practices till October, This was all he could say.
" By the examination of Valiere and Bara, and of many others who
lived about Dover, and Avere employed by them, a discovery was made of
a constant intercourse they were in with Calais, under Harley's protection.
They often went over with boats full of wool, and brought back brandy,
though both the import and export were severely prohibited. They, and
those who belonged to the boats carried over by them, were well treated
on the French side at the governor's house, or at the commissary's : they
were kept there till their letters were sent to Paris, and till returns could
be brought back, and were all the while upon free cost. The order that
was constantly given them was, that if an English or Dutch ship came up
with them, they should cast their letters into the sea, but that they should
not do it when French ships came up with them : so they were looked on
by all on that coast as the spies of France. Tliey used to get what infor-
mation they could, both of merchant-ships and of the ships of war that lay
in the Downs, and upon that they usually went over ; and it happened
that soon after some of those ships were taken. Th.ese men, as they were
Papists, so they behaved themselves insolently, and boasted nmch of their
power and credit.
"•'• Complaints had been often made of them, but they were always
protected ; nor did it appear that they ever brought any information of
importance to Harley but once, when, according to what they swore, they
told him that Fourbin was gone from Dunkirk, to lie in wait for the
Russian fleet, which proved to be true ; ne both went to watch for them,
and he took the greater part of the fleet. Yet, thougli this was a single
piece of intelligence that they ever brought, Harley took so little notice of
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 15
it, ttat lie gave no advertisement to the Admiralty concerning it. This
particular excepted, they only brought over common news, and the Paris
Gazeteer. These examinations lasted for some weeks : when they were
ended, a full report was made of them to the House of Lords, and they
ordered the whole report, with all the examinations, to be laid before the
Queen."
Upon the conviction of Gregg, both houses of parliament petitioned the
Queen that he might be executed; and, on the ti8th April, 1708, he was
accordingly hanged at Tyburn.
While on the scaffold, he delivered a paper to the sheriffs of London
and Middlesex, in which he acknowledged the justice of his sentence,
declared his sincere repentance of all his sins, particularly that lately
committed against the Queen, whose forgiveness he devoutly implored.
He also expressed his wish to make all possible reparation for the injuries
he had done ; and testified the perfect innocence of Mr. Secretary Harley,
whom he declared to have been no party to his proceedings. He professed
that he died a member of the Protestant church ; and declared that the
want of money to supply his extravagances had tempted him to commit
the fatal crime, which cost him his life.
It is a remarkable circumstance in the life of this offender, that while he
was corresponding with the enemy, and taking measures to subvert the
government, he had no predilection in favour of the Pretender. On the
contrary, he declared, while he was under sentence of death, that " he
never thought he had any right to the throne of these realms."
RICHARD THORNHILL, ESQ.,
CONVICTED OF MANSLAUGHTER, IN KILLING SIR C. PEERING IN A DUEL.
This was a case which arose out of the practice of duelling, which has
always existed almost peculiarly among the higher classes of society Mr.
Thornhill and Sir Cholmondeley Deering having dined together on the 7t!i
of April, 1711, in company with several other gentlemen, at the Toy at
Hampton Court, a quarrel arose, during which Sir Cholmondeley struck
Mr. Thornhill. A scuffle ensuing, the wainscot of the room broke down,
and Thornhill falling, the other stamped on him, and beat out some of his
teeth. The company now interposed, and Sir Cholmondeley, convinced that
he had acted improperly, declared that he was willing to ask pardon ; but
Mr. Thornhill said, that asking pardon was not a proper retaliation for the
injury that he had received ; adding, " Sir Cholmondeley, you know where
to find me." Soon after this the company broke up, and the parties went
home in different coaches, without any farther steps being taken towards
their reconciliation.
On the next day, the following letter was written by Mr. Thornhill :^
"AimlSth, 1711.
« Sir, — I shall be able to go abroad to-morrow morning, and desire you
will give me a meeting with your sword and pistols, which I insist on
The worthy gentleman who brings you this will concert with you the timti
16 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
and place. I think Tothill Fields will do well ; Hyde Park will not at
this time of year, being full of company.
" I am your humble servant,
" Richard TnoRXHiLr,.
On the 9th of April, Sir Cholmondeley went to the lodgings of Mr
Thornhill, and the servant showed him to the dining-room. He ascendeJ
with a bnice of pistols in his hands ; and soon afterwards, ]\Ir. Thornhill
coming to him, asked him if he would drink tea, but he declined. A
hackney-coach was then sent for, and the gentlemen rode to Tothill
Fields, where, unattended by seconds, they proceeded to fight their duel.
They fired their pistols almost at the same moment, and Sir Cholmondeley,
being mortally wounded, fell to the ground. Mr. Thornhill, after lament-
ing the unhappy catastrophe, was going away, when a person stopped him,
told him he had been guilty of murder, and took him before a justice oi
the peace, who committed him to prison.
On the 18th of May, Mr. Thornhill was indicted at the Old Bailey ses-
sions for the murder ; and the facts already detailed having been proved,
the accused called several witnesses to show how ill he had been used by
Sir Cholmondeley ; that he had languished some time of the wounds he
had received ; during which he could take.no other sustenance than liquids,
and that his life was in Imminent danger. Several persons of distinction
swore that Mr. Thornhill was of a peaceable disposition, and that, on the
contrary, the deceased was of a remarkably quarrelsome temper; and it
was also deposed, that Sir Cholmondeley, being asked if he came by his
hurt through unfair usage, replied, " No : poor Thornhill ! I am sorry
for him ; this misfortune ^^as my own fault, and of my own seeking. I
heartily forgive him, and desire you all to take notice of it, that it may
be of some service to him, and that one misfortune may not occasion
another."
The jury acqiiitted Mr. Thornhill of the murder, but found him guilty
of manslaughter ; in consequence of which he was burnt in the hand.
COLONEL JOHN HAMILTON.
CONVICTED OF MANSLAUGHTER AS SECOND IX A DUEL.
There was no occurrence which at the time occupied so much of the
public attention, and excited so much general interest, as the duel which
took place in the year 1711, between the Duke of Hamilton and Lord
Mohun ; in which, unhappily, both the principals fell.
The gentleman who is the subject of the present notice, was the second
of the noble duke, and appears to have been connected witli him by the
ties of relationship. At the sessions held at the Old Bailey, on the 1 1th
of September, he was indicted for the murder of Charles Lord JNIohun,
Baron of Oakhampton, on the 15th of November preceding; and at the
same time he vfas indicted for abetting Charles Lord j\Iohun, and George
Macartney, Esq., in the murder of James, Duke of Hamilton and Brandon.
Colonel Hamilton pleaded not guilty; and evidence Avas then adduced, which
showed that Lord IMohun having met the Duke of Hamilton at the cliam-
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. ]7
hers of a master in chancery, on Thursday the 13tli of Novcmher, a mis-
nuderstanding arose between them respecting the testimony of a witness.
On the return home of his lordship, he directed that no person should
be admitted to liim, except Mr. INIacartney ; and subsequently he went with
that o-entleman to a tavern. The Duke of Hamilton and his second.
Colonel Hamilton, were also at the tavci'n ; and from thence they all pro-
ceeded to Hyde Park. The only evidence which exhibited the real circum-
stances immediately attending the duel, was that of William Morris, a
proom, who deposed that, " as he was walking lis horses towards Hyde
Park, he followed a hackney-coach with two gentlemen in it, whom he
saw alight by the Lodge, and walk together towards the left part of the
ring. They were there about a quarter of an hour, when he saw two other
gentlemen come to them ; and, after liaving saluted each other, one of them,
who he was since told was the Duke of Hamilton, threw off his cloak ;
and one of the other two, who he now understands was Lord Mohun, his
surtout coat, and all immediately drew. The duke and lord pushed at each
other but a very little wdiile, when the duke closed, and took the lord by
the collar, who fell down and groaned, and the duke fell upon him. That
just as Lord ]\Iohun was dropping, he saw him lay hold of tlie duke's
sword, but could not tell whether the sword was at that time in his body ;
nor did he see any wound given after the closing, and was sure Lord
3Iohun did not shorten his sword. He declared he did not see the seconds
fight; but they had their swords in their hands, assisting their lords."
It further appeared that the bodies of the deceased noblemen were
examined by Messrs. Boussier and Amie, surgeons ; and that in that of the
duke, a wound was found between the second and third ribs on his right
side ; and also that there were wounds in his right arm, which had cut the
artery and one of the small tendons, as well as others in his right and left
leg. There was also a wound in his left side between liis second and third
ribs, which ran down into his body, and pierced the midriff and caul : but
it ajiju'ared that the immediate cause of the sudden death of his grace was
tiie wound in his arm. It was further proved, as regarded the body of
Lord Mohun, that there was a wound between the short ribs, quite
through his belly, and another about three inches deep in the upper part of
his thigh ; a large wound, about four inches wide, in his groin, a little
higher, which was the cause of his immediate death ; and another small
wound on his left side ; and that the fingers of his left hand were cut.
Tije defence made by the prisoner was, that "the duke called him to go
abroad with him, but he knew not anytliing of the matter till he came
into the field."
Some Scottish noblemen, and other gentlemen of rank, gave Mr. Hamilton
a very excellent character, asserting that he was brave, honest, and inoftln-
sive ; and the jury, having considered of the affair, gave a verdict of " Man-
slaughter;" in consequence of which the prisoner prayed the benefit of the
statute, which was allowed him.
At the time the lives of these noblemen were thus unfortunately sacri-
ficed, many persons thought they fell by the hands of the seconds ; and
some writers en the subject subsequently affected to be of the same opinion :
but nothing appears in the written or printed accounts of the transaction,
nor did anything arise en the trial, to warrant so ungenerous a suspicion ;
it is therefore but justice to the memory of all the parties to discredit sucli
insinuations.
VOL, I. D
13 THE NEW NEWGATE CALEMDAR.
WILLIAM LOWTHER AND RICHARD KEELE,
EXECUTED FOR THE MURDER JF EDWARD PERRY, A TURNKEY OF CLERKENWEtL
PRIDEWELL.
William Lowther was a native of Cumberland, and being bound to
the master of a Newcastle ship which traded to London, he became
acquainted with low abandoned company in the metropolis. Richard
Keele was a native of Hampshire, and served his time to a barber at Win-
chester ; and on coming to London, he married and settled in his own
business in Rotherhithe : but not living happily witli his wife, he parted
from her, cohabited with another woman, and associated with a number of
disorderly people.
On the 10th of December, 1713, they were indicted at the Old Bailey,
for assisting Charles Houghton in the murder of Edward Perry. The
case was as follows : — The prisoners, together with two other desperate
oftenders, of the name of Houghton and CuUum, having been convicted of
felony at the Old Bailey, were sentenced to be kept to hard labour in
Clerkenwell Bridewell for t^vo years. On their being carried thither, Mr.
Boreman, the keeper, thought it necessary to put them in irons, to prevent
their escape. This they all refused to submit to ; and Boreman having
ordered the irons, they broke into the room where the arms were deposited,
seized wliat they thought fit, and then attacked the keeper and his assist-
ants, and cruelly beat them. Lowther bit off part of a man's nose. At
this time. Perry, one of the turnkeys, was without the gate, and desired
the prisoners to be peaceable ; but, advancing towards them, he was
stabbed by Houghton, and, during the fray, Houghton was sliot dead.
Tiie prisoners being at length victorious, many of them made their escape ;
but the neighbours giving their assistance, Keele and Lowther, and several
others, were taken and convicted on the clearest evidence.
Some time after conviction, a smith went to the prison to take measure
of them for chains, in which they were to be hung, pursuant to an order
from tlie secretary of state's office; but they for some time resisted him in
this duty.
On the morning of execution (tlie 13th December, 1713), they were
carried from Newgate to Clerkenwell Green, and there hanged on a
gallows ; after which, their bodies were put in a cart, drawn by four
horses, decorated with plumes of black feathers, and hung in chains.
WILLIAM JOHNSON AND JANE HOUSDEN.
EXECUTED FOR THE MURDER OF SPURLING, A TURNKEY IN THE OLD BAILEY.
It is not a little remarkable that two instances should have occurred
within so short a space of time as nine montlis, in which the officers of the
Crown should have fallen victims to the exertions which they were com-
pelled to make in the discharge of their duties. The male prisoner in this
ease, William Johnson, was a native of Northamptonshire, where he served
his time to a butcher, and, removing to London, he opened a shop in New-
TRK NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. I'J
port Market ; but business not succeeding to his expectation, he pursued
a variety of speculations, until at length he sailed to Gibraltar, where he
was appointed a mate to one of the surgeons of the garrison. Having
saved some money at this place, became back to his native country, ■where
he soon spent it, and then had recourse to the highway for a supply.
Being apprehended in consequence of one of his robberies, he was convicted,
but received a pardon. Previously to this he had been acquainted with
Jane Housden, his fellow in crime, who had been tried and convicted of
coining, but had obtained a pardon; but who, in September, 1714, was
again in custody for a similar ofience. On the day that she was to be
tried, and just as she was brought down to the bar of the Old Bailey,
Johnson called to see her ; but Mr. Spurling, the head turnkey, telling
him that he could not speak to her till her trial was ended, he instantly
drew a pistol, and shot Spurling dead on the spot, in the presence of the
court and all the ])ersous attending to hear the trials, Mrs. Housden at
the same time encouraging him in the perpetration of this singular nmr-
der. The event had no sooner happened, than the judges, thinking it unne-
cessary to proceed on the trial of the woman for coining, ordered both the
parties to be tried for the murder ; and there being many witnesses to the
deed, they were convicted, and received sentence of death. From this time
to that of their execution, which took place September 19th 1714, and
even at the place of their death, they behaved as if they were wholly
insensible of the enormity of the crime which they had committed ; and
notwithstanding the publicity of their offence, they had the confidence to
deny it to the last moment of their lives : nor did they show any signs of
compunction for their former sins. After hanging the usual time, Johnson
was hung in chains near Holloway, between Islington and Highgate,
THE EARL OF DERWENTWATER, LORD KEXxMURE.
THE EARL OF WINTON, AND OTHERS,
EXECUTED FOR TEEASON.
The circumstances attending the crime of these individuals, intimately
connected as they were with the history of the Royal Family of England,
must be too well known to require them to be minutely repeated. On the
accession of George the First to the throne of Great 13ritain, the question
of the right of succession of King James the Third, as he was termed,
which had long been secretly agitated, began to be referred to more
openly ; and his friends, finding themselves in considerable force in Scot-
land, sent an invitation to him in France, where he had taken refuge, to
join them, for the purpose of making a demonstration, and of endeavouring
to assume by force, that which was denied him as of right. The noble-
men, whose names appear at the head of this article, were not the least
active in their endeavours to support the title of the Pretender, by enlisting
men under his standard ; and their proceedings, altiiough conducted with
all secrecy, were soon made known to the government. The necessary
steps were immediately taken for quelling the anticipated rebellion ; and
many persons were apprehended on suspicion of secretly aiding the rebels,
and were committed to tiaol.
20
TUE NEW NEWGATE CALE.NDAF!.
Meanwhile the Earl of Mar, the chief supporter of tlie Pretender, wag
in open rebellion at the liead of an army of 3000 men, which was rapidly
increasing, marchinp- from town t) town in Scotland, proclaiming the Pre-
tender as King of England and Scotland, by the title of James III. An
attempt was made by stratagem to surprise the castle of Edinburgh; and
with tliis object, son)e of the king's soldiers were base enough to receive a
bribe to admit those of the Earl of ]Mar, who were, by means of ladders of
• rope, to scale the walls, and surprise the guard ; but the Lord Justice Clerk,
having some suspicion of the treachery, seized the guilty, and many of
them were executed.
Tlie rebels were greatly chagrined at this failure of their attempt ; and
the French king^ Louis XIV., from whom t?iey hoped for assistance, dying
about this tinw, the leaders became disheartened, and contemplated the
abandonment of their project, until their king could appear in person among
them.
They were aided, however, by the discontent which showed itself in
another quarter. In Northumberland the spirit of rebellion was fermented
by Thomas Forster, then one of the members of parliament for that county ;
who, being joined by several noblemen and gentlemen, attempted to seize
the large and commercial town of Newcastle, but was driven back by the
friends of the government. Forster now set up the standard of the Pre-
tender, and proclaimed him the lawful king of Great Britain and Scotland,
wherever he went ; and, eventually joining the Scotch rebels, he marched
with them to Preston, in Lancashire. They were there attacked by Ge-
nerals Carpenter and AVills, who succeeded in routing them, and in making
1500 persons prisoners; amongst whom wei*e the Earl of Derwentwatei
and Lord AVidrington, English peers ; and the Earls of Nithisdale, Win-
ton, and Carnwarth, Viscount Kenmure, and Lord Nairn, Scotch peers.
These noblemen, with about three hundred more rebels, were conveyed
to London ; while the remainder, taken at the battle of Preston, were sent
to Liverpool, and its adjacent towns. At Highgate, the party intended for
trial in London was met by a strong detachment of foot-guards, ^Yho tied
them back to back, and placed two on each horse ; and in this ignomi-
nious manner were they held up to the derision of the populace, the lords
being conveyed to the Tower, and the otliers to Newgate and other
prisons.
The Earl of Mar, on the day of the battle, attempted to cross the Forth,
btit was prevented by a squadron of the British fleet, which had anchored
off Edinburgh ; and Sir John ^Mackenzie, on the part of the Pretender,
having fortified the town of Inverness, Lord Lovat, (at this tmie an adlie-
rent of the reigning monarch, but subsequently a friend to the cause of the
Stuarts, for aiding whose rebellion in 1745 he was beheaded,) armed his
tenants, and drove him from his fortifications. The Pretender subsequently
manaoed to elude the vigilance of the British ships appointed to prevent
his landing, and crossing the Channel in a small French vessel, disembaiked
in Scotland, with only six followers ; but having obtained the assistance of
a few half-armed Higlilanders, on the 9th of January 1716, he made a
public entry into the palace of Scone, the ancient place of coronation for
the Scottish kings. He there assumed the functions of a king, and so mueli
of the powers of royalty as he was able to secure, and issued a proclama-
lion for his coronation. The Duke of Argyle, at this time with his army
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. f>l
in winter quarter? at Stirling, however, determined to attack tlie rebel
forces, and advancing upon tliem, tb.ey fled at his approach. The Pre-
tender having been encouraged to rebel by France, was in anticipation of
receiving succour at the hands of the French king, and in the hope of sonif,
aid reaching him, he proceeded to Dundee, and thence to Montrose, where
soon rendered hopeless by receiving no news of the approach of the forei oners,
he dismissed his adherents. The king's troops pursued and put several
to death ; but the Pretender, accompanied by the Earl of JMar, and some
of the leaders of the rebellion, had the good fortune to get on board a ship
lying before Montrose ; and, in a dark night, put to sea, escaped the EnglLsli
fleet, and landed in France.
The unfortunate noblemen who had been secured were, meanwhile, com -
mitted to the custody of the keeper of the Tower ; and the House of Com-
mons unanimously agreed to impeach them, and expel Forster from his
seat as one of their members ; while the courts of common law proceeded
with the trials of those of less note. The articles of impeachment beino-
sent by the Commons, the Lords sat in judgment; Earl Cowper, the Lord
Chancellor of England, being constituted Lord High Steward.
All the Peers who were charged, except the Earl of Winton, pleaded
guilty to the indictment, but oftered pleas of extenuation for their guilt, in
hopes of obtaining mercy. In that of the Earl of Derwentwater, he sug-
gested that the proceedings in the House of Commons, in impeaching him,
were illegal.
Proclamation was then made, and the Lord High Steward proceeded to
pass sentence upon James Earl of Derwentwater, William Lord Widdrincr-
ton, William Earl of Nithisdale, Robert Earl of Carnwarth, AYilliam
Viscount Kenmure, and William Lord Nairn.
His lordship having detailed the circumstances attending their impeach-
ment, and having answered the argumentative matter contained in their
pleas, and urged in extenuation of their offences, proceeded to say, —
*■' It is my duty to exhort your lordships to think of the aggravations.
as well as the mitigations (if there be any), of your offences ; and if I could
have the least hopes that the prejudices of habit and education would not
be too strong for the most earnest and charitable entreaties, I would beg
you not to rely any longer on those directors of your consciences by whose
conduct you have, very probably, been led into this miserable condition
(in allusion to their lordships being members of the Roman Catholic church) ;
but that your lordships would be assisted by some of those pious and
learned divines of the church of England, who have constantly borne that
infallible mark of sincere Christians, universal charity.
" And now, my lords, nothing remains but that I pronounce upon you
(and sorry I am that it falls to my lot to do it) that terrible sentence of the
law, which must be the same that is usually given against the meanest
offender of the like kind.
" The most ignominious and painful parts of it are usually remitted, by
the grace of the crown, to persons of your quality ; but the law, in tliis case,
being deaf to all distinctions of persons, requires I should pronounce, and
accordingly it is adjudged by this court,
" That you, James earl of Derwentwater, William lord Widdrington.
William earl of Nithisdale, Robert earl of Carnwarth, ^Villiam viscount
22 THE NEAV NEWGATE CALENDAR.
Kcnmure, and William lord Nairn, and every of you, return to the prison
of the Tower, from whence you came ; from thence you must be drawn to
the place of execution ; when you come there, you must be hanged by the
neck, but not till you be dead ; for you must be cut down alive ; then your
bowels must be taken out, and burnt before your faces ; then your heads
must be severed from your bodies, and your bodies divided each into four
quarters ; and these must be at the king's disposal. And God Almighty
be merciful to your souls."
After sentence thus passed, the lords were remanded to the Tower, and
on the 1 hth of February orders were sent to the lieutenant of the Tower,
and the sherifts, for their execution. Great solicitations were made in
favour of them, which not only reached the court, but the two houses of
parliament, and petitions were delivered in both, which being supported,
occasioned debates. That in the House of Commons went no farther than
to occasion a motion for adjournment, so as to prevent any farther interpo-
sition there ; but the matter in the House of Peers was carried on with
more success, where petitions were delivered and spoke to, and it was
carried by nine or ten voices that they should be received and read. The
question was also put, whether the King had power to reprieve, in case
of impeadiment ; and this being carried in the affirmative, a motion was
made to address his majesty to desire him to grant a reprieve to the lords
under sentence; but the movers only obtained, this clause, viz., " To re-
prieve such of the condemned lords as deserved his mercy ; and that the
time of the respite should be left to his majesty's discretion."
The address having been presented, his majesty replied : —
" That on this, and other occasions, he would do what he thought most
consistent with the dignity of his crown, and the safety of his people."
The great parties which had been made by the rebel lords, as was said,
by the means of money, and the rash expressions too common in the
mouths of many of their friends, as if the government did not dare to
execute them, did not a little contribute to hasten their execution ; for on
the same day that the address was presented, the :23rd of February, it was
resolved in council, that the Earl of Derwentwater and the Lord Ken-
aiure should be beheaded on the next day ; and the Earl of Nithisdale,
apprehending he should be included in the warrant, succeeded in making
his escape on the evening before, in a woman's riding-hood, supposed to
have been conveyed to him by his mother on a visit.
On the morning of the 24th of February, three detachments of the life,
guards went from Whitehall to Tower-hill, and, having taken their stations
round the scaffi)ld, the two lords were brought from the Tower at ten
o'clock, and, being received by the sherifts at the bar, were conducted to
the transport-office on Tower-hill. At the expiration of about an hoiir,
the Earl of Derwentwater sent word that he was ready ; on which sir
John Fryer, one of the sheriffs, walked before him to the scaftbld, and,
when there, told him he miglit have what time he pleased to prepare
himself for death.
His lordship desired to read a paper which he had written, the substance of
which was, that he was sorry for having pleaded guilty ; that he acknow-
V^d^red no kino- but king James the Third, for whom he had an inviolable
£tl"ection : that the kingdom wonld never be happy until the ancient con-
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 2U
stitution was restored, and lie wished that his death miglit contrihute to
that end. His lordsliip professed to die in the liunian Catholic faith, and
said at the end of the speech which he delivered, that " if that Prince who
then governed had given him life, he shonld have thought himself obliged
never more to take up arms against him." He then read some prayers,
and kneeled to see how the block would fit him ; and having told the
executioner that he foi'gave him, as well as all his enemies, he desired him
to strike when he should repeat the words "Sweet Jesus" the third
time. He immediately proceeded to prepare himself for the blow of the
axe, and having placed his neck so that it might be fairly struck, he said,
'\Sweet Jesus, receive my spirit! Sweet Jesus, be merciful unto me! Sweet
Jesus — " and was proceeding in his prayer, when his head was severed
from his body at one blow. The executioner then took it up, and carrying
it to the four corners of the scaffold, said, " Beheld the head of a traitor. —
Cod save Kmg George."
The body was directly wrapped in black baize, and being carried to a
coach, was delivered to the friends of the deceased : and the scaffold having
been cleared, fresh baize was put on the block, and new saw-dust strewed,
so that no blood should appear. Lord Kenmure was then conducted to the
place of execution.
His lordship was a Protestant, and was attended by two clergymen.
He declined saying much to them, hoAvever, telling one of them that he
had prudential reasons for not delivering his sentiments ; which were sup-
posed to arise from his regard to Lord Carnwarth, who was his brother-in-
law, and who was then interceding for the royal mercy. Lord Kenmure
having finished his devotions, declared that he forgave the executioner, to
whom he made a present of eight guineas. He was attended by a surgeon,
who drew his finger over that part of the neck where the blow was to be
struck ; and being executed as Lord Derwentwater had been, his body was
delivered to the care of an undertaker.
George, Earl of Winton, not having pleaded guilty with the other lords,
was brought to his trial on the 15th of March, when the principal matter
urged in his favour was that he had surrendered at Preston, in consequence
of a promise from General Wills to grant him his life : in answer to which
it was sworn that no promise of mercy was made, but that the rebels sur-
rendered at discretion.
The circumstances of the Earl of Winton having left his house with four-
teen or fifteen of his servants well mounted and armed, his joining the Earl
Carnwarth and Lord Kenmure, his proceeding with the rebels through the
various stages of their march, and his surrendering with the rest, were
fully proved : notwithstanding which, his counsel moved in arrest of judg-
ment ; but the plea on which this motion was founded being thought insuffi-
cient, his peers unanimously found him guilty. The Lord High Steward
then pronounced sentence on him, after ha,ving addressed him in forcibk
terms, in the same manner as he had sentenced the other peers.
The Earls of Winton and Nithisdale afterwards found msans to escape
out of the Tower ; and Messrs. Forster and M'Intosh escaped from New-
gate : but it was supposed that motives of mercy and tenderness in the
Prince of Wales, afterwards George the Second, favoured the flight of all
tnese gentlemen.
This rebellion occasioned the untimely death of many other persona
24 THE NE'.V NEWGAXK CALENDAK.
Five were executed at Manchester, six at Wigan, and eleven at Preston ;
but a considerable number was brought to London, and, being arraigned in
tlie Court of Exchequer, most of tliem pleaded guilty, and suflered the
utmost ricrour of the law.
JAMES SHEPPARD.
EXECUTED FOR HIGH TREASON.
Tins is a very singular case of treason ; for though tlie crime for which
Sheppard suffered was committed three years after the rebellion was
quelled, yet the same misjudged opinions urged this youth to enthusiasm in
the cause of the Pretender as those which actuated the former offenders.
It is still more singular that he, neither being a Scotchman born, nor in any
way interested in the mischiefs which he contemplated, should, unsolicited,
volunteer in so dangerous a cause.
James Sheppard was the son of Thomas Sheppard, glover, in Soutl;-
wark ; but his father dying when he was about five years of age, he was
sent to school in Hertfordshire, whence his uncle, Dr. liinchclifte, removed
him to Salisbury, where he remained at school three years. Being at
Salisbury at the time of the rebellion, he imbibed the principles of his
school-fellows, many of whom were favourers of the Pretender ; and he
A'as confirmed in his sentiments by reading some pamphlets which were
then put into his hands.
AVhen he quitted Salisbury, Dr. Hinchcliffe put him apprentice to JNIr.
Scott, a coach-painter in Devonshire-street, Bishopsgate ; and he continued
in this situation about fourteen months, when he was apprehended for the
crime which cost him his life.
Sheppard, having conceived the idea that it would be a praiseworthy
action to kill the king, wrote a letter, which he intended for a nonjuriug
minister of the name of Leake ; but, mistaking the spelling, he directed it
" To the Rev. jNIr. Heath." The letter was in the following terms : —
" Sir, — From the many discontents visible throughout this kingdom, I
infer that if the prince now reigning could be by death removed, our king
being here, he might be settled on his throne witliout much loss of blood.
For the more ready effecting of this, 1 propose that, if any gentleman will
pay for my passage into Italy, and if our friends will entrust one so young
with letters of invitation to his majesty, I will, on his arrival, smite tlie
usurper in his palace. In this confusion, if sufficient forces may be raised,
l;is majesty may appear ; if not, he may retreat or conceal himself till a
fitter opportunity. Neither is it presumptuous to hope that this may suc-
ceed, if we consider how easy it is to cut the thread of human life ; how
great confusion the death of a prince occasions in the most peaceful nation ;
and how mutinous the people are, how desirous of a change. But we will
suppose the worst — that I am seized, and by torture examined. Now, that
this may endanger none but myself, it will be necessary that the gentlemen
who defray my charges to Italy leave England before my departure ; that
J be ignorant of his majesty's abode ; that I lodge with some whig ; th;it
you abscond ; and that this be communicated to none. But, be the event
as it will, I can expect nothing less than a most cruel death ; which, tha;
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. ^5
1 n;ay the better support, it will be requisite that, from my arrival till the
attempt, I every day receive the Holy Sacrament from one who shall be
ignorant of the design. "• James Sheppard."
Having carried it to Mr. Leake's house, he called again for an answer
but he was apprehended, and carried before Sir John Fryer, a magistrate.
When he was brought to his trial, he behaved in the most firm and
composed manner ; and, after the evidence was given, and the jury had
found him guilty of high treason, he was asked why sentence should not
be passed on him according to law, when he said " He could not hope for
mercy from a prince whom he would not own." The Recorder then
proceeded to pass sentence on him ; in pursuance of which, he was executed
at Tyburn on the 17th March, 1718. He was attended by a non-juring
clergyman up to the time of his execution, between whom and the ordinary
the most indecent disputes arose, extending even up to the time of his
arriving at the scaffold, when the latter quitted the field and left the other
to instruct and pray with the malefactor as he might think proper.
THE MARQUIS DE PALEOTTI,
EXECUTED FOR THE MURDER OF HIS SERVANT.
Tuis nobleman was at the head of a noble family in Italy, and was
born at Bologna. In the reign of Queen Anne he was a Colonel in the
imperial army. The Duke of Shrewsbury, being at Rome, fell in love
with and paid his addresses to the sister of the JMarquis; and the lady
having been married to him in Germany, they came to England. The
Marquis quitting the army at the peace of Utrecht, visited England to see
his sister ; and being fond of an extravagant course of life, and attached to
gaming, he soon ran in debt for considerable sums. His sister paid his
debts for some time, till she found it would be a burdensome and endless
task ; and she therefore declined all further interference. The habits of
the Marquis, however, were in nowise changed, and being one dav
walking in the street, he directed his servant, an Italian, to go and borrow
some money. The servant, having met with frequent denials, declined
going : on which the Marquis drew his sword and killed him on the spot.
He was instantly apprehended, and committed to prison ; and being tried
at the next sessions, was convicted on full evidence, and received sentence
of death. The Duke of Shrewsbury being dead, and his duchess having
little interest or acquaintance in England, it appears that no endeavours
were used to sav" him from the punishment which awaited him, and he
was executed at Tyburn on the 17th of March, 1718.
Italian pride had taken deep root in the mind of this man. To his last
moment it was predominant. He petitioned the sheriffs that his body
should not be defiled by touching the unhappy Englishmen doomed to
suffer with him, and that he might die before them, and alone. The
sheriffs, in coui'tesy to a stranger, granted this request, and thus, in his
last struggle, he maintained the superiority of his rank.
TOL. 1.
26 THK NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
JOHN PRICE,
COMMONLY CALLED JACK KETCH, EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
Although the circumstances attending the crime of this malefuctcr d^
not present any features of general interest, the fact of the offender having
tiUerl tlie office of public executioner, and of his being deprived of life on
that very scaftbld on which he had exercised the functions of his revolting
office, render the case not a little remarkable. It would appear that the
jirisoner was bom of decent parents, in the parish of St. Martin' s-in-tbf
Fields, London ; and tliat his father, who was in the service of his country
having been blown u]) at the demolition of Tangiers, he was put apprentice
to a rag merchant. His master dying, he ran away and went to sea, and
served with credit on board different ships in the navy, for the space of
18 years ; but at length was paid off and discharged from further service.
The office of public executioner becoming vacant, it was given to him,
and but for his extravagance, he might have long continued in it, and
subsisted on its dreadfully-earned wages. On returning from an execution,
however, he was arrested in Holborn for debt, which he discharged, in
part, with the wages he had tliat day earned, and the remainder with the
produce of three suits of clothes, which he had taken from the bodies
of the executed men ; but soon afterwards he was lodged in the
JMarshalsea prison for other debts, and there he remained for want of bail ;
in consequence of which one William Marvel was appointed in his stead.
He continued some time longer in the jMarshalsea, when he and a fellow-
prisoner broke a hole in the wall, through which they made their escape.
It was not long after this that Price committed the offence for which he
was executed. He was indicted on the 20th April, 1718, for the murder
of Elizabeth, the wife of William AYhite, on the 13th of the preceding
month.
In the course of the evidence it appeared that Price met the deceased
flear ten at night in ]\Ioorfields, and attempted to ravish her ; but the poor
woman (who w^as the wife of a watchman, and sold gingerbread in the
streets) doing all in her power to resist his villanous attacks, he beat her
so cruelly that streams of blood issued from her eyes and mouth, one of
her arms was broken, some of her teeth were knocked out, her head was
bruised in a most dreadful manner, and one of her eyes was forced from the
socket. Some persons, hearing the cries of the unhappy creature, repaired
to the spot, took Price into custody, and lodged him in the watch-house ;
and the woman, being attended by a surgeon and a nurse, was unable to
speak, bat she answered the nurse's questions by signs, and in that manner
described what had happened to her. She died, after having languished
four days. The prisoner, on his trial, denied that he was guilty of the
murder; but he was found guilty and sentenced to death. He then gave
himself up to the use of intoxicating liquors, and continued obstinately to
deny his guilt until the day of execution. He then, however, admitted
the justice of his punishment, but said that he was in a state of intoxication
when he committed the crime for which he suffered. He was executed
on tli) 21st May, 1718 at Bunhill-row, and was afterwards hung in chaina
al H Uoway.
THE NEW MEWGATE CALENDAR. 2?
It maybe remarked, that tlils case affords a striking instance of the absence
of the effect of example : for, however much tlie miserable calling of the
unhappy man may have hardened his mind, and i-endered him callous to thos-o
feelings of degradation which would arise in the heart of any ordinary
jierson, placed in a similar situation, it cannot be supposed that his fear (;f
the dreadful punishment of death could have been in any degree abated
by his having so frequently witnessed its execution in all its horrors.
BARBARA SPENCER,
STRANGLED, AND THEN BURNED, FOR COINING.
This is the first case on record, in which any person appears to have
been executed for counterfeiting the coin of the realm. The punishment
for this offence, at first, of necessity, severe, to check the alarming preva-
lence of the crime, has long since been materially mitigated ; and although
the evil still exists to a great degree, it lias been diminished very con-
siderably in consequence of the judicious steps taken by the officers of the
Mint.
In the month of May, 1721, Barbara Spencer, with two other women,
named Alice Hall, and Elizabeth Bray, were indicted for high treason, in
counterfeiting the king's current coin of the realm. The evidence went to
))rove the two latter prisoners to be agents only, and they were acquitted ;
while Spencer appeared to be the princij)al, and she was found guilty, and
sentenced to be burned. It turned out that the prisoner liad before been
guilty of similar offences, and the sentence was carried into execution,
although not in its direct terms. The law which then existed was, indeed,
that women, convicted of high or petit treason, should be burned ; but the
v/isdom and humanity of the authorities provided a more easy death, in
directing that the malefactor should be strangled, while tied to the stake,
and that the body should afterwards be consumed by fire.
While under sentence of death, the prisoner behaved in the most inde-
cent and turbulent manner ; nor could she be convinced that she had been
guilty of any <;rime in making a few sliillings. She was for some time
very impatient under the idea of her approaching dissolution, and was
particularly shocked at the thought of being burned ; but at the place of
execution, she seemed willing to exercise herself in devotion, but was much
interrupted by the mob throwing stones and dirt at her.
She was strangled and burned at Tyburn on the 5th of July, 1721.
Wli^LIAM SPIGGOT. AND THOMAS PHILLIPS.
EXECUTED FOR HIGHWAY ROBBERY.
This case is rendered worthy of notice, by the fact that, the prisoners
refusing to plead, they were placed under the torture. They were indicted
for a robbery upon the king's highway ; but refused to plead until some
of their property, which had been taken from them, was returned. This
was denied them by the Court, under the provisions of the statute of tlio
2?* THE NEW NEWGATE CALKiXDAR.
4 th & 5th William and Mary ; and as, in spite of all entreaties, they persisted
in their refusal, to deny or confess the charge against them, the Court ordered
that the judgment ordained by law should be read to them. This was,
" That the prisoner shall be sent to the prison from whence he came,
and put into a mean room, stopped from the light, and shall there be laid
on the bare ground, without any litter, straw, or other covering, and with-
out any garment about him, except something to hide his privy members.
He shall lie upon his back, his head shall be covered, and his feet shall bo
bare. One of his arms shall be drawn with a cord to one side of the room,
and the other arm to the other side ; and his legs shall be served in the
like maimer. Then there shall be laid upon his body as much iron or stone
as he can bear, and more. And the first day after he shall have three
morsels of barley bread, without any drink ; and the second day he shall
be allowed to drink as much as he can, at three times, of the water that
is next the prison-door, except running water, without any bread ; and
this shall be his diet till he dies ; and he against whom this judgment shall
be given, forfeits his goods to the king."
The reading of this sentence producing no effect, they were ordered back
to Newgate, there to be pressed to death ; but when they came into the
press-room, Phillips begged to be taken back to plead. The favour was
granted, though it might have been denied to him ; but Spiggot was put
under the press, and he continued half an hour, with tl^ree hundred and
fifty pounds' w^eight on his body; but, on the addition of fifty pounds
more, he also begged to plead.
They were in consequence brought back, and again arraigned ; when,
the evidence being clear and positive against them, they were convicted,
and received sentence of death ; in consequence of which they were exe-
cuted at Tyburn on the 8th of February. 17:21.
The priscmer Phillips, after sentence, behaved in a manner which exhi-
bited that he was a person of the most abandoned character. His compa-
nion was more attentive to his devotions ; but Phillips declared that he
did not fear to die, for that he was sure of going to heaven. It appeared,
from the declarations of the prisoners, that they had been very successful
in their depredations ; in the commission of which they were accompanied
by a clergyman named Joseph Lindsay, and a lunatic, who had escaped
from Bedlam, named Burroughs. The mad prattling of the latter caused
the apprehension of his companions, while the evidence of the former tended
materially to secure their conviction.
It is almost needless to add, that that remnant of barbarity, the torture,
has long since been abolished.
NATHANIEL HAWES.
TORTURED AND AFTERWARDS EXECUTED FOR ROniiEK^.
The case of this prisoner may not prove uninteresting, as connected witli
that last detailed.
Nathaniel Hawes was a nauve of Norfolk, in w- hich county he was born
m the year 1701. His father was a grazier in good circumstances; but
dying while the son was an iufant. a relation in Hertfordsliire took care of
his education.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 29
At a proper age he was a^jprenticod to an upliolstercr in London ; but,
becoming connected with people of bad character, he robbed his master
when he had served only two years of his time, for which he was tried at
the Old Bailey, and, being convicted, was sentenced to seven years' trans-
portation.
His sentence was, however, withdrawn on his becoming evidence against
the receiver of the stolen property. But the warning which he had re-
ceived was of no avail ; and after having been once in custody for a rob-
bery, when he was again admitted king's evidence, he soon joined a fellow
with wjiom he had become acquainted in prison, and meeting a gentleman
on Finchley Common, they demanded his money, swearing to murder him,
if he did not give it to them.
The gentleman quitted his horse, and at the same moment seized the
pistol which was placed at his throat by the robber, and, presenting it to
the latter, told him to expect death if he did not surrender himself. His
companion having fled, H awes was now as terrified as he had been inso-
lent, and made no opposition ; and the driver of a cart coming up just at the
moment, he was easily made prisoner, conveyed to London, and committed
to Newgate. When the sessions came on, and he was brought to the
bar, he refuged to plead to his indictment, alleging as a reason for so
doing, that he would die, as he had lived, like a gentleman : — " The
people," said he, " who apprehended me, seized a suit of fine clothes, which
I intended to have gone to the gallows in ;' and unless they are returned, 1
will not plead ; for no one shall say that I was hanged in a dirty shirt and
ragged coat."
On this, sentence was pronounced that he should be pressed to death ;
whereupon he was taken from the Court, and, being laid on his back,
sustained a load of two hundred and fifty pounds' weight about seven
minutes ; but, unable any longer to bear the pain, he entreated he might
be conducted back to the Court. He then pleaded not guilty ; but the
evidence against him being conclusive, he was convicted, and sentenced
to die.
He was executed at Tyburn on the 22nd of Decembei, 1721.
The subject of torture may not be inaptly illustrated by an account given
by Stedman of a scene witnessed by him at Surinam, when a young man,
a free negro, was tortured for the murder of the overseer of the estate of
Altona in the Para Creek. He says, ''This man having stolen a sheep to
entertain a favourite young woman, the overseer, who burned with jea-
lousy, had determined to see him hanged ; to prevent which, the negro
shot him dead among the sugar-canes. For these offences, of course, he
was sentenced to be broken alive upon the rack, without the benefit of the
covp de grace, or mercy-stroke. Informed of the dreadful sentence, he
composedly laid himself down upon his back on a strong cross, on which,
with his arms and legs extended, he was fastened by ropes. The execu-
tioner, also a black man, having now with a hatchet chopped off his left
hand, next took up a heavy iron bar, with which, by repeated blows, he
broke his bones to shivers, till the marrow, blood, and splinters flew about
the field ; but the prisoner never uttered a groan nor a sigh ! The ropes
being next unlashed, I imagined him dead, and felt happy ; till the magis-
trates stirring to depart, he writhed himself from the cross, when he fell on
the grass, and damned them all as a set of barbarous rascals. .At the same
30 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR
time, removing his right hand by the help of his teeth, he rested his head
on part of the timber, and asked the by-standers for a pipe of tobacco,
which was infamously answered by kicking and spitting on him, till I,
with some American seamen, thought proper to prevent it. He then
begged his hea<i might be chopped off, but to no purpose. At last, seeing
no end to his misery, he declared, ' that though he had deserved death, he
had not expected to die so many deaths : however,' said he, ' you Chris-
tians have missed your aim at last, and I now care not, were I to remain
thus one month longer.' After which he sung two extempore songs with
a clear voice ; the subjects of which were to bid adieu to his living friends,
and to acquaint his deceased relations that in a very little time he should be
with them, to enjoy their company for ever in a better place. This done,
he calmly entered into conversation w^th some gentlemen concerning his
trial, relating every particular with uncommon tranquillity. ' But,' said
he abruptly, ' by the sun it must be eight o'clock, and by any longer dis-
course 1 should be sorry to be the cause of your losing your breakfast.' Then
casting his eyes on a Jew, whose name was Deveries, ' Apropos, sir,'
said he, ' won't you please to pay me the ten shillings you owe me ? '
' For what to do ? ' ' To buy meat and drink, to be sure : don't you
perceive I'm to be kept alive ? ' Which speech, on seeing the Jew stare
like a fool, the mangled wretch accompanied with a loud and hearty laugh.
Next, observing the soldier that stood sentinel over him biting occasionally
a piece of dry bread, he asked' him how it came to pass that he, a tchite
man, should have no meat to eat along with it. ' Because I am not so
rich,' answered the soldier. ' Then I will make you a present, sir,' said
the negro. ' First pick my hand that was chopped off, clean to the bones ;
next begin to devour my body till you are glutted ; when you will have
both bread and meat, as best becomes you : ' which piece of humour was
followed by a second laugh. And thus he continued until I left him.
which was about three hours after the dreadful execution."
Subsequently, on proceeding to the spot, the writer discovered that after
the poor wretch had lived thus more than six hours, he was knocked on
the head by the commiserating sentinel ; and that having been raised upon
a gallows, the vultures were busy picking out the eyes of the mangled
corpse, in the skull of which was clearly discernible the mark of the
soldier's musket.
CAPTAIX JOHN MASSEY.
EyECDTED FOR PIRACY.
Captai.s Massey was the son of a gentleman of fortune, who gave hun
an excellent education. When young, he grew weary of home ; and his
father havinw procured him a commission in the army, he served with
great credit as lieutenant under the command of the Duke of Marlborough,
during the wars in Flanders, in the reign of Queen Anne. After this he
went with his regiment to Ireland, and at length got appointed to the rank
of lieutenant and engineer to the Royal African Company, and sailed in
one of their ships to direct the building of a fort. The ship being ill sup-
plied with provisions, the sufferings of the crew were inexpressibly great.
Those who lived to get on shore drank so grtedily of the frc^h water, that
1
TflK NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 31
tliey wtre thrown into fluxes, which destroyed them so rapidly, thut onlv
Captain Massey and a very few of his people were still alive, these, bein"«
totally unable to build a fort, and seeing no prospect of relief, began to
abandon themselves to despair ; but at this time a vessel happening to
come near the shore, they made signals of distress, on which a boat was
sent off to their assistance.
They were no sooner on board than they found the vessel was a pirate ;
And, distressed as they had been, they too hastily engaged in their lawless
plan, rather than run the hazard of perishing on shore. Sailing from hence,
they took several prizes ; and at length on the ship reaching Jamaica, Mr.
Massey seized the first opportunity of deserting; and repairing to the
governor, he gave such information, that the crew of the pirate vessel were
taken into custody, convicted, and hanged. Massey might have been
provided for by the governor, who treated him with singular respect, on
account of his services to the public ; but he declined his generous offers,
through an anxiety to visit his native country. On his sailing for England,
the governor gave him recommendatory letters to the lords of the admi-
ralty ; but, astonishing as it may seem, instead of his being caressed, he
was taken into custody, and committed till a session of admiralty was held
for his trial, when he pleaded guilty, and received sentence of death.
His sentence was subsequently carried out, although it may readily be
supposed that that due attention was scarcely given to the case which the
interests of the prisoner demanded.
ARUNDEL COOKE, ESQ. AND JOHN WOODBURNE.
EXKCUTED FOR CUTTING AND MAIMING.
The prosecution of these offenders took place under tlie provisions of a
statute, j)assed in tlie reign of Charles the Second, commonly called " Sir
John Coventry's Act," the origin of which we have elsewhere described,
and which has since been followed by an enactment, more extensive in its
operation, called " Lord EUenborough's Act."
Mr. Cooke, who by virtue of his profession as a barrister was entitled
to the rank of esquire, was born at Bury St. Edmunds, in Suffolk, and
was a man of considerable fortune at the time of his execution. Wood-
burne, his companion in crime, was a labouring man in his service, who,
having a family of six children, was induced to join in the commission of
the crime, of which he was found guilty, upon the promise of the payment
to him of 100/. for his aid in the diabolical plan. Mr. Cooke, it appears,
was married to the daughter of Mr. Crisp, the victim of his attack. The
latter was a gentleman of very large property, and of infirm habit of body,
aad having made his will in favour of his son-in-law, the latter became
anxious to possess the estate, and determined, by murdering the old gentle-
man, to secure its immediate transfer to himself. For this purpose, he pro-
cured the co-operation of Woodburne on the terms wliich we have already
mentioned, and Christmas evening of the year 17iJl was fixed upon for the
perpetration of the intended murder. Mr. Crisp was to dine with his
son-in-law on that day, and Woodburne was directed to lie in wait in the
churchyard, which lay between the houses of the old gentleman and his
fa.va- in-law, behind a tomb-stone, in the evening, when, at a given signal,
he was to fall upon and kill the former. The time arrived when Mr. Crisp
32 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
was to depart, and uptm his going out, Mr. Cooke followed him, and thcr.
aided his assistant in a most violent attack upon his father-in-law.
The old man was left for dead, but in spite of the wounds which he had
received, he crawled back to his daughter, to whom he communicated his
suspicions, that her husband was the originator of the murderous attempt
which had been made.
Woodburne was impeached by his sudden disappearance; and the affair
having created a great deal of excitement in the neighbourhood, he was
followed and secured, and then he exposed the enormity of his offence, by
confessing the whole of the circumstances attending its commission. Mr.
Cooke was also taken into custody, and a bill of indictment was preferred
at the ensuing assizes, at Bury St. Edmunds, upon which the two prisoners
were tried and found guilty.
Upon their being called up to receive sentence of death, Cooke desired
to be heard : and the court complying with his request, he urged that
"judgment could not pass on the verdict, because the act of parliament
simply mentions an intention to maim or deface, whereas he was firmly
resolved to have committed murder." He quoted several law cases in
favour of the arguments he had advanced, and hoped that judgment might
be respited till the opinion of the twelve judges could be taken on the case.
Lord Chief Justice King, however, who presided on this occasion,
declared that he could not admit the force of Mr. Cooke's plea, consistently
with his own oath as a judge : " for (said he) it would establish a principle
in the law inconsistent with the first dictates of natural reason, as the
greatest villain might, when convicted of a smaller offence, plead that the
judgment must be arrested, because he intended to commit a greater. In
the present instance tlierefore judgment cannot be arrested, as the intention
is naturally in^plied when the crime is actually committed."
Sentence of death was then passed, and the prisoners were left for
execution. After condemnation, the unhappy man "Woodburne exhibited
signs of the most sincere penitence ; but his wretched tempter to crime
conducted himself with unbecoming reserve and moroseness, steadily
denying his guilt, and employing his most strenuous exertions to procure
a pardon.
The 3d April, 1722, was at length fixed for the execution of the
sentence, and Cook was hanged at four in the morning of that day, in
obedience to a request which he made, in order that he should not be
exposed to the public gaze ; while AVoodburne was turned oft", in the
afternoon, on the same gallows. The execution took place at Biiry St
Edmunds, the crime jiaving been committed withm a mile of that place.
CHRISTOPHER LAYER, ESQ.
EXECUTED FOR HIGH TREASON.
Mr. Layer was a barrister of considerable standing and reputation, at
the time when he was convicted and executed on a charge of bemg the
projector of a scheme for the destruction of the king, and the subversion
of the government, which had for its object the elevation of the Pretender
to the throne of England. ^
Numerous were the plots which had been laid for the same purpose, he...
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 33
frequent were the proceedings which had been had upon complaints laid
before the various courts of criminal justice in the kingdom, since the year
l7lo, when the rebellion first broke out; but the plan laid by Mr. Layei
was one of those which gained the greatest degree of notoriety. This
infatuated man had received a liberal education, and was a member of the
society of the Inner Temple ; but being impressed with the possibility of
the success of a scheme for the dethronement of the existing monarch, and
the elevation of the Pretender to the rank, to which it was contended that
he was entitled, he made a journey to Rome, in order to confer with that
prince upon the propriety of putting his design into execution, promising
that he would effect so secret a revolution in England, that no person in
authority should be apprised of the scheme until it had been actually
completed. Having procured the concurrence of the prince, he instantly
returned to London, and proceeded to the completion of his preparations
His plan was to hire an assassin to murder the king on his return from
Kensington ; and, this being done, the other parties engaged in the plot
were to seize the guards ; and the Prince of Wales and his children, and
the great officers of state, were to be secured, and confined during the
confusion that such an event would naturally produce.
Mr. Layer having settled a correspondence with several Roman Catholics,
non-jurors, and other persons disafiected to the government, he engaged a
small number of disbanded soldiers, who were to be the principal actors in
the intended tragedy. A meeting of the whole of the partisans having,
however, been held at Stratford, they talked so loudly of the plot, that
their designs were suspected, and information was conveyed to the autho-
rities ; upon which Mr. Layer was taken into custody, under a secre-
tary of state's warrant, and conveyed to the house of a king's messenger
for security. His chambers being searched, papers were found, the con-
tents of which sufficiently indicated his intentions, and witnesses as to
repeated declarations on his part, in reference to the rebellion, having been
discovered in the persons of two women, who were living under his pro-
tection, it was determined that a prosecution should be instantly commenced
against him. But it was not until he had nearly given his jailers the
slip, that this dttermination was carried into execution with effect; for it
appears that the prisoner became convinced of the practicability of an
escape from the room where he was confined, through an ale-house, which
was situated at the back of the messenger's house, and resolved to make
the attempt to procure his liberty. He therefore formed a rope of his
blanket, and, dropping from the window of his apartment, he fell into the
yard below, unscathed ; but in his descent, he overset a bottle-rack, and
from the noise which was caused, the family of the house was disturbed
Mr. Layer managed, nevertheless, to gain the street in the confusion which
prevailed ; but being instantly pursued by officers, he was traced to have
taken a boat at the Horse Ferry, Westminster, from thence to St. George's
Fields; and he was at length overtaken at Xewington Butts. On the
following day he was committed to Newgate ; and a Grand Jury of the
county of Essex having found a true bill against him for high treason,
his trial came on before Chief Justice Pratt, and the other judges of the
Court of King's Bench, in the month of January 1723, when, after an
inquiry, which lasted sixteen hours, he was found guilty, and sentenced if
death in the customary manner.
VOL. I. P
S4 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
As he had some important aflfiiirs to settle, from the nature of his pro-
fession, the court did not order his execution till more than two months
after he had been condemned ; and the king repeatedly reprieved him, to
prevent his clients being sutterers by his affairs being left in a state of
confusion.
After conviction, 3Ir. Layer was committed to the Tower ; and at length
the sheriffs of London and ^Middlesex received a warrant to execute the
sentence of the law. He was carried to Tyburn on a sledge, on the 15th
^Larch 17'23, to be hanged, being dressed in a suit of black, full trimmed,
and wearino- a tie-wig. At the place of execution he was assisted in his
devotions by a nonjuring clergyman ; and when these were ended, he spoke
to the surrounding multitude, declaring that he deemed King James (so
he called the Pretender) his lawful sovereign. He said that King George
was a usurper, and that damnation would be the fate of those who sup-
ported his government. He insisted that the nation would never be in a
state of peace till the Pretender was restored, and therefore advised the
people to take up arms in his behalf. He professed himself willing to die
for the cause, and expressed great hopes that Providence would eventually
support the right heir to the throne. His body having been suspended
during the accustomed time, it was quartered, and the head was after-
wards exposed on Temple Bar. Among others concerned in this strange
scheme was Lord Grey, an ancient nobleman of the Roman Catholic reli-
gion, who died a prisoner in the Tower, before the necessary legal proceed-
ings against him could take place.
PHILIP ROACH,
EXECUTED FOR PIRACY AND MURDER.
This fellow was a native of Ireland, and having, during his youth, fol-
lowed a seafaring life, he was advanced to the position of first mate, on
board a "West-Indiaman, which sailed to and from Barbadoes. Having,
however, become acquainted with a fisherman named Neale, who hinted to
him that large sums of money might be acquired by insuring ships, and
then causing them to be sunk, to defraud the insurers, he was wicked
enough to listen to this horrid idea ; and, being recommended to a gentle-
man who had a ship bound to Cape Breton, he got a station on board,
next in command to the captain, by whom he was entrusted with the
management of the vessel.
On the voyage, it would appear that he would have abstained from
carrying out his diabolical plan ; but having brought some Irishmen on
board with him, they persisted in pursuing their original design, or in de-
manding that the vessel should be seized. Accordingly, one night, when
the captain and most of the crew were asleep. Roach gave orders to two of
the seamen to furl the sails ; which being immediately done, the poor fel-
lows no sooner descended on the deck, than Roach and his associates mup
dered them, and threw them overboard. At this instant a man and a boy
at the yard-arm, observing wliat passed, and dreading a similar fate, hur-
ried towards the topmast-head, when one of the Irishmen, named Cullen,
followed them, and, seizin^ the boy, threw him into the sea. The man.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 35
thinking to effect at least a present escape, descended to tlie main-deck ;
but he was instantly butchered, and committed to the deep. The noise
occasioned by these transactions had alarmed the sailors below, and they
luu-ried up with all possible expedition ; but were severally seized and
murdered as fast as they came on deck, and were thrown into the sea. At
length the master and mate came on the quarter-deck ; but they were
doomed to share the same fate as their unhappy shipmates.
These execrable murders being perpetrated, the nmrderers determined to
commence pirates, and that Roach should be the captain, as tlie reward uf
Ills superior villany.
They had intended to sail up the Gulf of St. Lawrence ; but as they
were witliin a few days' voyage of the Bristol Channel, when the bloody
tragedy was acted, and found themselves short of provisions, they put into
Portsmouth ; and, giving the vessel a fictitious name, they painted her
afresh, and then sailed for Ilotterdam. At this city they disposed of their
cargo, and took in a fresh one ; and being unknown, an English gentle-
man, named Annesley, shipped considerable property on board, and took
his passage with them for the port of London ; but the villains threw this
unfortunate gentleman overboard, after tliey liad been only one day at sea.
When the ship arrived in the river Thames, Mr. Annesley's friends made
inquiry after him, in consequence of his having sent letters to England,
describing the ship in wliich lie proposed to embark ; but Roach denied any
knowledge of the gentleman, and even disclaimed his own name. Not-
withstanding his confident assertions, it was rightly presumed who he was,
and a letter which he sent to his wife being stopped, he was taken into
custody, and canned before the secretary of state for examination. While
there, having denied that he was the person he was taken to be, his inter-
cepted letter was shown to him ; on which he instantly confessed his crimes,
and was committed to take his trial. He was subsequently hanged at
Execution Dock, on the otli of August, 17i*3.
JOSEPH BLAKE, alias BLUESKIN,
EXECUTED FOR HOUSEBREAKING.
At about this time London and its vicinity were infested by a gang of
villains of the most desperate character, of whom this criminal was the
captain. With his name are associated those of offenders whose exploits,
though they may be better known, were not more daring or more vil-
lanous. The notorious Jonathan Wild, whose system of atrocity will be
found to be exposed in the notice given hereafter of his life and death, and
his no less notorious victim and coadjutor. Jack Sheppard, were both inti-
mately connected with the proceedings of Blake ; while others of equal cele-
brity filled up the number of his followers. The Mint in South wark was,
during the early part of the life of these oflenders, a place which, being by a
species of charter freed from the intrusion of the bailiffs, formed an admirable
hiding-place and retreat for criminals, as well as debtors. A system of watch
and ward was maintained among them, and, like the Alsatia of Sir Walter
Scott's admirable novel of " The Fortunes of Nigel," which is now known
by the name of Whitefriars, its privacy was seldom intruded upon by the
36 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
appearance of the officers of justice. The salutary laws of the commence-
ment of the reign of the Hanover family, however, soon caused these dena
of infamy to be rooted out ; and the districts referred to are now knowii
only by repute, as having been privileged in the manner which has been
described.
To return to the subject of our present narrative : he was a native of
London, and having been sent to school at the age of six years, he dis-
played more intelligence in acquiring a proficiency in the various arts of
roguery, than in becoming acquainted with those points of decent instruc-
tion, with which his parents desired he should make himself intimate.
While at school, he formed an acquaintance with a lad of his own age,
named Blewitt, who afterwards, with himself, became a member of Jona-
than Wild's gang. No sooner had they left school, than they started in
life as pickpockets ; and our hero, before he attained the age of fifteen
years, had been in half the prisons in the metropolis. From this they
turned street robbers ; and forming connexions with others, their pro-
ceedings became notorious, and they were apprehended. Blake, however,
was admitted evidence against his companions, Avho were convicted ; and
having by that means obtained his own acquittal, he claimed a part of the
reward offered by government. He was informed by the Court, that his
demand could not be granted, because he was not a voluntary evidence; since,
so far from having surrendered, he had made an obstinate resistance, and
was much wounded before he was taken ; and instead of rewarding him,
they ordered him to find security for his good behaviour, or to be trans-
ported. Not being able to give the requisite bail, he was lodged in Wood-
street Compter, and there he remained for a considerable period ; during
which his patron, Wild, allowed him three and sixpence per week. At
length he prevailed upon two gardeners to enter into the necessary sure-
ties ; and their recognisance having been taken by Sir John Fryer, for his
good behaviour, for seven years, he once more regained his liberty. This
object was, however, no sooner attained, than he was concerned in several
robberies with Jack Sheppard ; and they at length committed that offence
for which Blueskin was executed. We have already said that he had
become notorious for the daring which he displayed, and the frequency of
his attacks upon the property of others ; and he had become no less cele-
brated among his companions, who had favoured him with the appellation
of Blueskin, from the darkness of his complexion, and had besides honoured
him by dubbing him captain.
At the October sessions of the Old Bailey, 17^3, he was indicted under
the name of Joseph Blake, alias Blueskin, for breaking and entering the
dwelling-house of William Kneebone, in St. Clement's Church-yard, and
stealing one hundred and eight yards of woollen cloth, value thirty-six
pounds, and other property. It was sworn by the prosecutor, that the
8iitry was effected by cutting the bars of his cellar-window, and by
subseqtiently breaking open the cellar-door, which had been bolted and
padlocked ; and that afterwards, on his going to Jonathan Wild, and
acquainting him with what had occcured, he was conducted to Blake's
lodgings, for the purpose of procuring his apprehension. The prisoner
refusing to open the door. Quilt Arnold, one of Wild's men, broke it open.
On this Blake drew a penknife, and swore that he would kill the first man
that entered ; in answer to which Arnold sa' d, " I'hen I. am the first man.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 37
and Mr. Wild is not far beliind ; and if you don't deliver your penknife
immediately, I will chop your arm off." Hereupon the prisoner dropped
tlie knife ; and Wild entering, he was taken into custody.
It further appeared, that as the parties were conveying Blake to New-
gate, they came by the house of the prosecutor ; on which Wild said to
the prisoner, " There's the ken ;" and the latter replied, " Say no more of
that, Mr. Wild, for I know I am a dead man ; but what I fear is, that
I shall afterwards be carried to Surgeons' Hall, and anatomised ;" to
which Wild replied, "No, I'll take care to prevent that, for I'll give
you a coffin." William Field, an accomplice, who was evidence on the
trial, swore that the robbery was committed by Blake, Sheppard, and
himself; and the jury brought in a verdict of guilty.
As soon as the verdict was given, Blake addressed the Court in the
following terms : — " On Wednesday morning last, Jonathan Wild said to
Simon Jacobs (then a prisoner), " I believe you will not bring forty pounds
this time (alluding to the reward paid by Government) ; I wish Joe
(meaning me) was in your case ; but I'll do my endeavour to bring you
off as a single felon." And then turning to me, he said, " I believe you
must die — I'll send you a good book or two, and provide you a coffin, and
you shall not be anatomised."
The prisoner having been convicted, it was impossible that this revela-
tion of the circumstances, under which he was impeached could be noticed;
l)ut subsequent discoveries distinctly showed that Wild's system was pre-
cisely that which was pointed out; namely, to lead on those who chose to
submit themselves to his guidance, to the full extent to which they could
go, so as to be useful to him ; and then to deliver them over to justice for
the offcnce& in which he had been the prime mover, securing to himself
the reward payable upon their conviction. His position screened him from
punishment, while his power ensured the sacrifice of the victims, who had
so long been his slaves. It appears that Wild was near meeting
his end in this case. He was to have given evidence against Blake, but
going to visit him in the bail-dock, previous to his trial, the latter sud-
denly drew a clasped penknife, with which he cut Jonathan's throat. The
knife was blunt, and the wound, though dangerous, did not prove mortal ;
but the informer was prevented from giving the evidence which had been
expected from him. AVhile under sentence of death, Blake did not show
a concern proportioned to his calamitous situation. When asked if he
was advised to commit the violence on Wild, he said No ; but that a sudden
thought entered his mind : had it been premeditated, he would have pro-
vided a knife, which would have cut oft' his head at once. On the nearer
approach of death he appeared still less concerned ; and it was thought
that his mind was chiefly bent on meditating means of escaping : but
seeing no prospect of getting away, he took to drinking, which lie conti-
nued to the day of his death ; and he was observed to be intoxicated, eyen
while he was under the gallows.
He was executed at Tyburn on the 11th of November, 1723.
S8
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAP..
JOHN SHEPPARD.
EXECUTED FOE HOUSE-BREAKING.
The prisoner, whose name heads tliis article, war, a companion and fellow
in crime to the notorious Blueskin. The name of Jack Sheppard is one
■wliich needs no introduction. His exploits are so notorious, that notliing
more is necessary than to recount them. Sheppard was born in Spitalfields,
in the year 1702 ; his father was a carpenter and bore the character of an
honest man ; but dying when his son was yet young, he, as well as a younger
brother, Tom Sheppard, soon became remarkable for their disregard for
honesty. Our hero was apprenticed to a carpenter in Wych-street, like
his father, and during the first four years of his service he behaved with
comparative respectability ; but frequenting a public-house, called the
Black Lion, in Drury Lane, he became acquainted with Blueskin, his
subsequent companion in wickedness, and Wild, his betrayer, as well as
with some women of abandoned character, who afterwards also became
his coadjutors. His attentions were more particularly directed to one of
them, named Elizabeth Lion, or Edgeworth Bess, as she was familiarly
called from the town in which she was born, and while connected with
her he frequently committed robberies at the various houses, in which he
was employed as a workman. He was, however, also acquainted with a
woman named Maggott, who persuaded him to commit his first robbery in
the house of Mr. Bains, a piece-broker, in White Horse Yard, Drury
Lane. He was at this time still resident at his master's house ; and having
stolen a piece of fustian, he took it home to his trunk, and then returning
to the house which he was robbing, he took the bars out of the cellar-
window, entered, and stole goods and money to the amount of '2'2l. which
he carried to Maggott. As Sheppard did not go home that night, nor on
the following: day, his master suspected that he had made bad connexions,
and searching his trunk found the piece of fustian that had been stolen ;
but Sheppard, hearing of this, broke open his master's house in the night,
and carried ofi' the fustian, lest it should be brought in evidence against
him.
This matter received no further attention ; but Sheppard's master
seemed desirous still to favour him, and he remained some time longer in
the family ; but after associating himself with the worst of company, and
frequently staying out the whole night, his master and he quarrelled,
and the headstrong youth totally absconded in the last year of his appren-
ticeship.
Jack now worked as a journeyman carpenter, with a view to the easier
commission of robbery; and being employed to assist in repairing the
house of a gentleman in ]May Fair, he took an opportunity of carrjing oft
a sum of money, a quantity of plate, some gold rings, and four suits
of clothes. Not long after this Edgeworth Bess was apprehended, and
lodged in the round-house of the parisli of St. Giles's, where Sheppa,rd
went to visit her; but the beadle refusing to admit him, he knocked hin^
down, broke open the door, and carried her off in triumph ; an exploit
which acquired him a high degree of credit among his companions. Tom
Sheppard being now as deep in crime as his brother, he prevailed on Jack
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 39
tr» lend him forty shillings, and take him as a partner in his robberies.
The tirst act they committed in concert was the robbing of a public-house
in Southwark, whence they carried off' some money and wearing apparel ;
but Jack ])erinitted his brother to reap the whole advantage of this booty.
Not long alter this, in conjunction with Edgeworth Bess, they broke ojien
the shop of JNIrs. Cook, a linen-draper in Clare Market, and carried off' goods
to the value of 53/.; and in less than a fortnight afterwards, they stole
some articles from the house of Mr. Phillips in Drury Lane. Tom Slie])pard
going to sell some of the goods stolen at Mrs. Cook's, was apprehended, and
committed to Newgate, when, in the hope of being admitted an evidence,
he impeached his brother and Bess ; but they were sought for in vain.
At length James Sykes, otherwise called Hell-and-Fury, one of
Sheppaid's companions, meeting with him in St. Giles's, enticed him into
a public-house, in the hope of receiving a reward for apprehending him ;
and while they were drinking Sykes sent for a constable, who took Jack
into custody, and carried him before a magistrate. After a short examina-
tion, he was sent to St. Giles's round-house ; but he bi'oke through the rouf
of that place and made his escape in the night.
Within a short time after this, as Sheppard and an associate, named
Benson, were crossing Leicester Fields, the latter endeavoured to pick a
gentleman's pocket of his watch ; but failing in the attempt, the gentle-
man called out ''• A pickpocket ! " on which Sheppard was taken, and
lodged in St. Ann's round-house, where he was visited by Edgeworth Bess,
who was detained on suspicion of being one of his accomplices. On the
following day they were carried before a magistrate, and some persons
appearing who charged them with felonies, they were committed to the
New Prison ; but as they passed for husband and wife, they were permitted
to lodge together in a room known by the name of the Newgate
ward. They were here visited by many of their friends, Blueskin among
the number ; and being provided by them with the implements necessary
to enable them to escape. Jack proceeded to secure the object which he had
in view with that alacrity and energy which always characterised his
actions. The removal of his fetters by means of a file was a work which
occupied him a very few minutes, and he then, with the assistance of hi*
companion, prepared for flight. The first obstacle which presented itself to
them was in the shape of the heavy cross-bars which defended the aperture,
by which light and air were admitted to their cell ; but the application of
their file soon removed the difficulty. There was then another point of a
more dangerous character to overcome — the descent to the yard. Their
window was twenty-five feet in height, and the only means of reaching
the earth was by the employment of their blankets as ropes. Thesi',
however, would not enable them to touch the ground; but they found that
there was a considerable distance for them to drop, even after they should
have arrived at the extreme end of their cord. Gallantry induced our hero
to give the first place to Bess, and she, having stripped off" a portion of her
clothes, so as to render herself lighter, descended in perfect safety. Jack
followed, and they found some consolation in their being at least without
the gaol, although there were yet the Avails of the yard to climb. These
were topped with a strong chevaux de /rise of iron, and were besides
twenty-two feet high ; but passing round them until they came to tlio
great gates, the adventurous pair found means by the locks and bolts, by
40 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
which they were held together, to surmount this, apparently the greatest
ditficulty of all, and they once again stood on the open ground outside the
gaol. Bess having now re-assumed the clothes, of which she had denuded
herself, in order that she might be the more agile in her escape, and which
she had taken the precaution to throw over the wall before her, she and her
paramour, once more enjoying the free air of liberty, marched into town.
It may readily be supposed that our hero's fame was increased by the
report of this exploit, and all the thieves of St. Giles's soon became anxious to
become his " palls." He did not hesitate to accept the companionship of two
of them, named Grace, a cooper, and Lamb, an apprentice t > a mathematical
instrument maker ; and at the instigation of the latter they committed a
robbery in the house of his master, near St. Clement's church, to a considerable
amount. The apprentice, however, was suspected, and secured, and being
convicted, received sentence of transportation. Our hero meanwhile
escaped, and joining with Blueskin, they did not fail in obtaining consider-
able booty. The mode of disposing of the plunder which they adopted
was that of employing a fellow named Field to procure them a market ;
and having committed the robbery at Kneebone's, already mentioned in
Blake's memoir, they lodged its proceeds in a stable, which they had
hired, near the Horse Ferry, Westminster. Field was applied to, to find
a customer for the property, and he promised to do so, and was as good as his
word ; for breaking open the stable, he carried ofip the goods himself, and
then conveyed information of the robbery to Wild, alleging that he had
been concerned in it. Blueskin, it will have been seen, was tried and
convicted for the robbery, and suffered execution ; and Sheppard having
also been secured, he too was sentenced to death.
On Monday, 30th August, 1724, a warrant was sent for his execution,
together with that of some other convicts, but neither his ingenuity nor his
courage forsook him upon this, any more than upon any previous occasion.
In the gaol of Newgate there was a hatch within the lodge in which the
gaolers sat, which opened into a dark passage, from which there were a few
eteps leading to the hold containing the condemned cells. It was customary
for the prisoners, on their friends coming to see them, to be conducted to
this hatch ; but any very close communication was prevented by the surveil-
lance of the gaolers, and by large iron spikes which surmounted the gate
The visits of Edgeworth Bess to her paramour were not unattended with
advantage to the latter, for while in conversation, she took the oppor-
tunity of diverting the attention of the gaoler from her, while she delivered
the necessary instruments to Sheppard to assist him in his contemplated
escape. Subsequent visits enabled Jack to approach the wicket ; and by
constant filing he succeeded in placing one of the spikes in such a position
as that it could be easily wTenched off. On the evening on which the
warrant for his execution arrived, Mrs. Maggott, who was an immensely
powerful woman, and Bess, going to visit him, he broke off the spike while
the keepers were employed in drinking in the lodge, and thrusting his
head and shoulders through the aperture, the women pulled him down,
and smuggled him through the outer room, in which the gaolers were
indulging themselves, into the street. This second escape not a little
increased his notoriety ; but an instant pursuit being made, he was com-
])clled to lie close. Consulting -with one Page, a butcher, it was deter-
mined that they should go to Waruden, in Northamptonshire, together
THE NEW NEWGATE CAt.ENDAU. 4]
wliorc tlii'ivlations of the latter lived ; but on arriving there, being treated
with indifference, tliey immediately retraced their steps to London.
On the niglit after tlieir return, they were walking througli Fleet-street,
when they saw a watchmaker's shop attended only by a boy, and having
])a5sed it, they turned back, and Sheppard, driving his hand through the
window, stole three watches, with which tliey made their escape. They
subsequently retired to Finchley for security ; but the gaolers of Newgate
gaining information of their retreat, took Siieppard into custody, and once
more conveyed him to " The Stone Jug."
Such steps were now taken as it was thought would be effectual to
])revent his future escape. He was put into a strong room, called the
Castle, handcuffed, loaded with a heavy pair of irons, and chained to a
staple fixed in the floor. The curiosity of the public being greatly excited
i)y his former escape, he was visited by great numbers of people of all
ranks, and scarce any one left him without making him a present in money.
Although he did not disdain these substantial proofs of public generosity,
wiiich enabled him to obtain those luxuries, which were not provided bv the
city authorities for his prison fare, his thoughts were constantly fixed on
the means of again eluding his keepers ; and the opportunity was not
long wanting when he might carry his design into execution.
On the fourteenth of October, the sessions began at the Old Bailey, and
the keepers being much engaged in attending the Court, he thought
rightly, that they would have little time to visit him, and, therefore, that
the present juncture would be the most favourable to carry his plan into
execution. About two o'clock in the afternoon of the following day, one
of the keepers carried him his dinner ; and having carefully examined his
irons, and found them fast, he left him. Sheppard now immediately pro-
ceeded to the completion of the great work of his life, his second escape
from Newgate ; in describing which we shall extract from Mr. Ainsworth's
work of " Jack Sheppard," in which that gentleman has given a lasting
fame to our hero, and has founded a most interesting romance on the real
circumstances of the life of this daring and extraordinary offender. He
says, " Jack Sheppard's first object was to free himself from his hand-cuffs.
This he accomplished by holding the chain that connected them firmly
between his teeth, and, squeezing his fingers as closely together as possible,
he succeeded in drawing his wrists through the manacles. He next twisted
the heavy gyves round and round, and partly by main strength, partly bv a
dexterous and weii-applied jerk, snapped asunder tlie central link, by
which they were attached to the padlock. Taking off' his stockings, he
then drew up the basils as far as he was able, and tied the fragments of the
broken chains to his legs, to prevent them from clanking, aud impeding his
future exertions." Upon a former attempt to make his way up the cliimney,
he had been impeded by an iron bar which was fixed across it, at a height
of a few feet. To remove this obstacle, it was necessary to make an extensive
breach in the wall. With the broken links of the chain, which served him
in lieu of more efficient implements, he commenced operations just above
the chimney-piece, and soon contrived to pick a hole in the plaster. He
found the wall, as he suspected, solidly constructed of brick and stone ; and,
with the slight and inadequate tools which he possessed, it was a work of
infinite skill and labour to get out a single brick. That done, however, he
was well aware the rest would be comparatively easy ; and as he threw
VOL. I. O
42 THE NEW NEWGATE CALKXDAR.
the hrick to the ground, he exclaimed triumphantly, " The first step h
taken — the main difficulty is overcome."
" Animated by this trifling success, he proceeded with fresh ardour, and
the rapidity of his progress was proclaimed by the heap of bricks, stones,
and mortar, which before long covered the floor. At the expiration of an
hour, by dint of unremitting exertion, he made so large a breach in the
chimney that he could stand upright in it. He was now within a foot of
the bar, and introducing himself into the hole, he speedily worked his way
to it. Regardless of the risk he ran by some heavy stones dropping on his
head or feet, — regardless also of the noise made by the falling rubbish, and of
the imminent risk to which he was consequently exposed of being interrupted
by some of the gaolers, should the sound reach their ears, he continued to
pull dowTi large masses of the wall, which he flung upon the floor of the cell.
Having worked thus for another quarter of an hour, without being sensible
of fatigue, though he was half stifled by the clouds of dust which his
exertions raised, he had made a hole about three feet wide and six higli,
and uncovered the iron bar. Grasping it firmly with both hands, he
quickly wrenched it from the stones in which it was mortised, and leapt
to the ground. On examination it proved to be a flat bar of iron, nearly
a yard in length, and more than an inch square. ' A capital instrument
for my purpose,' thought Jack, shouldering it, ' and worth all the trouble
I have had in procuring it.' While he was thus musing, he thought he
heard the lock tried. A chill ran through his frame, and grasping the
heavy weapon, with which chance had provided him, he prepared to strike
down the first person who should enter his cell. After listening attentively
for a short time without drawing breath, he became convinced that his
apprehensions were groundless, and, greatly relieved, sat down upon the
chair to rest himself and prepare for future efibrts.
•' Acquainted with every part of the gaol. Jack well knew that his only
chance of eflecting an escape must be by the roof. To reach it would be a
most difficult undertaking. Still it was possible, and the difficulty was
only a fresh incitement. The mere enumeration of the obstacles which
existed would have deterred any spirit less daring than Sheppard's from
even hazarding the attempt. Independently of other risks, and the chance
of breaking his neck in the descent, he was aware that to reach the leads
he should have to break open six of the strongest doors of the prison.
Armed, however, with the implement he had so fortunately obtained, he
did not despair of success. ' My name will not only be remembered as
that of a robber,' he mused, ' but it shall be remembered as that of a bold
one; and this night's achievement, if it does nothing else, shall prevent me
from being classed with the common herd of depredators.' Roused by
this reflection, he grasped the iron bar, which, when he sat down, he had
laid upon his knees, and stepped quickly across the room. In doing so,
he had to clamber up the immense heap of bricks and rubbish which now
littered the floor, amounting almost to a cart-load, and reaching up nearly
to the chimney-piece ; and having once more got into the chimney, he
climbed to a level with the ward above, and recommenced operations as
vigorously as before. He was now aided with a powerful implement, witii
which he soon contrived to make a hole in the wall.
" The ward which Jack was endeavouring to break was called tl;e Red-
room from the circuniatance of its walls having once been painted in that
THE NEW NEWGATE CAtENHAR. 4S
colour : all traces of which, however, had lont^ since disappeared. Liko
tne Castle, Avhich it resembled in all respects, except that it was destitute
even of a barrack bedstead, the Red-room was reserved for state ])risoners.
and had not been occupied since tlieyear 1716, when the gaol was crowded
l»y the Preston rebels. Having made a hole in the wall sufficiently large
to pass through, Js.<;k first tossed the bar into the room and then crept
after it. As soon as he had gained his feet, he glanced round the bare
black walls of the cell, and, oppressed by the misty close atmosphere,
exclaimed, ' I will let a little fresh air into this dungeon : they say it has
not been opened for eight years, but I won't be eight minutes in getting
out.' In stepping across the room, some sharp point in the floor pierced
his foot, .and stooping to examine it, he found that the wound had been
inflicted by a long rusty nail, which projected from the boards. Totally
disregarding the pain, he picked up the nail, and reserved it for future use.
Nor was he long in making it available. On examining the door, he found
it secured by a large rusty lock, which he endeavoured to pick with the
nail he had just acquired : but all his efforts proving ineftectual, he removed
the plate that covered it with tlie bar, and with his fingers contrived to
draw back the bolt.
" Opening the door, he then stepped into a dark narrow passage, leading,
as he was well aware, to the Chapel. On the left there were doors com-
municating with the King's Bench Ward, and the Stone Ward, two lar<je
holds on the master debtors' side. But Jack was too well versed in the
geography of the place to attempt either of them. Indeed, if he had been
ignorant of it, the sound of voices, which he could faintly distinguisli,
would have served as a caution to him. Hurrying on, his progress was
soon checked by a strong door, several inches in thickness and nearly as
wide as the passage. Running his hand carefully over it in search of the
lock, he perceived, to his dismay, that it was fastened on the other side.
After several vain attempts to burst it open, he resolved, as a last alter-
native, to break through the wall in the part nearest the lock. This was
a much more serious task than he anticipated. The wall was of consi-
derable thickness, and built altogether of stone ; and the noise he was
compelled to make in using the heavy bar, which brought sparks with
every splinter he struck oft", was so great, that he feared it must be heard
by the prisoners on the debtors' side. Heedless, however, of the conse-
i^uences, he pursued his task. Half an hour's labour, during which he
was obliged more than once to pause to regain breath, sufticed to make a
hole wide enough to allow a passage for his arm up to the elbow. In this
way he was able to force back a ponderous bolt from its socket ; and to his
unspeakable delight, found that the door instantly yielded. Once more
cheered by daylight, he hastened forward and entered the Chapel.
" Situated at the upper part of the south-east angle of the gaol, tiie
Chapel of Old Newgate was divided on the north side into three grated
compartments, or pens, as they were termed, allotted to the common
debtors and felons. In the north-west angle there was a small pen for
female offenders ; and on the south, a more commodious inclosure appro-
priated to the master debtors and strangers. Immediately beneath th*?
pulpit stood a large circular pen, where malefactors under sentence of
death sat to hear the condemned sermon delivered to them, and where tney
formed a public spectacle to the crowds which curiosity generally attracieO
44 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
cn those occasions. To return. Jack had got into one of the pens at the
north side of the chapel. The inclosure hy wliich it was surrounded was
about twelve feet higla ; the under part being composed of oaken planks,
the upper part of a strong iron grating, surmounted by sharp iron spikes.
In the middle there was a gate : it was locked. But Jack speedily burst
it open with the iron bar. Clearing the few impediments in his way.
he soon reached the condemned pew, where it had once been his fate to
sit ; and extending himself on the seat endeavoured to snatch a moment's
repose. It was denied him, for as he closed his eyes — though but for an
Instant — the whole scene of his former visit to the place rose before him.
There he sat as before, with the heavy fetters on his limbs, and beside
him sat his three companions who had since expiated their offences on the
gibbet. The chapel was again crowded with visitors, and every eye fixed
upon him. So perfect was the illusion, that he could almost fancy he
heard the solemn voice of the Ordinary warning him that his race was
nearly run, and imploring him to prepare for eternity. From this perturbed
state he was roused by the thoughts of his present position, and fancying
he heard approaching voices, he started up. On one side of the chapel
there was a large grated window, but, as it looked upon the interior of the
gaol, Jack preferred following the course he had originally decided upon, to
making any attempt in this quarter. Accordingly he proceeded to a gate
wliich stood upon the south, and guarded the passage communicating with
the leads. It was grated, and crested with spikes, like tliat he had just
burst open ; and thinking it a needless w'aste of time to force it, he broke
off one of the spikes, which he carried with him for further purposes, and
then climbed over it. A short flight of steps brought him to a dark
passage, into which he plunged. Here he found another strong door,
making the fifth he had encountered. AYell aware that the doors in this
passage were much stronger than those in the entry he had just quitted,
he was neither surprised nor dismayed to find it fastened by a lock of
unusual size. After repeatedly trying to remove the plate, which w-as so
firmly screwed down that it resisted all his efforts, and vainly attempting
to pick it with his spike and n.iil, he at length, after half an hour's inef-
fectual labour, wrenched oft" the box by means of the iron bar, and the
door, as he laughingly expressed it, ' was his humble servant.'
" But this difficulty was only overcome to be succeeded by one still
greater. Hastening along the passage, he came to the sixth door. For
this he was prepared : but he was not prepared for the almost insur-
mountable difficulties which it presented. Running his hand hastily over
it, he was startled to find it one complicated mass of bolts and bars. It
seemed as if all the precautions previously taken were here accumulated.
Any one less courageous than himself would have abandoned the attempt
from the conviction of its utter hopelessness ; but though it might for a
moment damp his ardour, it could not deter him. Once again he passed
his hand over the surface, and carefully noted all the obstacles. There was
a lock, apparently more than a foot wide, strongly plated, and girded to
the door with thick iron hoops. Below it a prodigiously large bolt wa|
^hot into the socket, and, in order to keep it there, was fastened by a hasp,
and further protected by an immense padlock. Besides this, the door
was crossed and recrossed by iron bars, clenched by broad-headed nails.
An iron fillet secured the socket of the bolt and the box of the lock to the
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAU. 45
main post of the door- way. Nothing disheartened by this survey, Jack
set to work upon the lock, which he attacked with all his implements ; .
now attempting to pick it with the nail ; — now to wrench it oti" with the
bar, but all without effect. He not only failed in making any impression
but seemed to increase the difficulties, for after an hour's toil he liad broken
the nail, and slightly bent the iron bar. Completely overcome by fatio-ue,
with strained muscles and bruised hands, streaming with perspiration, an«l
with lips so parched that he would gladly have parted with a treasure if
he had possessed it for a draught of water, he sunk against the wall, and
while in this state was seized with a sudden and strange alarm. He
fancied that the turnkeys had discovered his flight, and were in pursuit of
him — that they had climbed up the chimney — entered the bed-rooms —
tracked him from door to door, and were now only detained by the gate,
which he had left unbroken in the chapel. So strongly was he impressed
with this idea, that grasping the iron bar with both hands he dashed it
furiously against the door, making the passage echo with the blows. By
degrees his fears vanished, and, hearing nothing, he grew calmer. His
spirits revived, and encouraging himself with the idea that the present
impediment, though the greatest, was the last, he set himself seriously to
consider how it might best be overcome. On reflection, it occurred to him
that he might, perhaps, be able to loosen the iron fillet — a notion no sooner
conceived than executed. With incredible labour, and by the aid of both
spike and nail, he succeeded in getting the point of the bar beneath the
fillet. Exerting all his energies, and using the bar as a lever, he forced
off the iron band, which was full seven feet high, seven inches wide, and
two inches thick, aud which brought with it, in its fall, the box of the
lock, and the socket of the bolt, leaving no further hindrance. Overjoyed
beyond measure at having vanquished this apparently insurmountable
obstacle. Jack darted through the door.
" Ascending a short flight of steps. Jack found at the summit a door,
which, being bolted on the inside^ he speedily opened. The fresh air,
which blew in his face, greatly revived him. He had now reached what
were called the Lower Leads — a flat, covering a part of the prison conti-
guous to the gateway, and surrounded on all sides by walls about fourteen
feet high. On the north stood the battlements of one of the towers of the
gate. On this side a flight of wooden steps, protected by a hand-rail, led
to a door opening upon the summit of the prison. This door was crested
with spikes, and guarded on the right by a bristling semi-circle of similar
weapons. Hastily ascending the steps, Jack found the door, as he antici-
pated, locked. He could have easily forced it, but he preferred a more
expeditious mode of reaching the roof which suggested itself to him.
Mounting the door he had last opened, he placed his hands on the wall
above, and quickly drew himself up. Just as he got on the roof of the
prison, St. Sepulchre's clock struck eight. It was instantly answered by
the deep note of St. Paul's ; and the concert was prolonged by other neigh-
bouring churches. Jack had been thus six hours in accomplishing his
arduous task.
" Though nearly dark, there was still light enough left to enable him to
liscern surrounding objects. Through the gloom he distinctly perceived
the dome of St. Paul's, hanging like a black cloud in the air ; and, nearer
to him. he remarked the golden ball on tho summit of the College of
46 THE NEW NEWGATF CALENDAR.
Piiysicians, compared by Garth to a ' gilded pill.' Other towers and
spires ; — St. Martin's, on Ludgate-hill, and Christ Church, in Newgate-
street, were also distinguishable. As he gazed down into the courts of the
prison, he could not help shuddering, lest a false step might precipitate
him below. To prevent the recurrence of any such escape as that just
described, it was deemed expedient, in more recent times, to keep a
watchman at the top of Newgate. Not many years ago, two men employed
in this duty quarrelled during the night, and in the morning their bodies
were found stretched upon the pavement of the yard below. Proceeding
along the wall, Jack reached the southern tower, over the battlements of
which he clambered, and crossing it, dropped upon the roof of the gate.
lie then scaled the northern tower, and made his way to the summit of
that part of the prison which fronted Giltspur-street. Arrived at the
extremity of the building, he found that it overlooked the flat roof of a
house, which, as far as he could judge in the darkness, lay at a depth of
about twenty feet below.
" Not choosing to hazard so great a fall. Jack turned to examine the
building, to see whether any more favourable point of descent presented
itself, but could discover nothing but steep walls, without a single available
projection. Finding it impossible to descend on any side, without incurring
serious risk, Jack resolved to return for his blanket, by the help of which
he felt certain of accomplishing a safe landing on the roof of the house in
Giltspur-street. Accordingly he began to retrace his steps, and pursuing
the course he had recently taken, scaling the two towers, and passing along
the walls of the prison, he descended by means of the door upon the Lower
Leads. Before he re-entered the prison he hesitated, from a doubt whether
he was not fearfully increasing his risk of capture ; but, convinced that he
had no other alternative, he went on. During all this time he had never
quitted the iron bar, and he now grasped it with the firm determination of
selling his life dearly if he met with any opposition. A few seconds
sufticed to clear the passages through which it had previously cost him
more than two hours to force his way. The floor was strewn with screws,
nails, fragments of wood and stone, and across the passage lay the heavy
iron fillet. He did not disturb any of the litter, but left it as a mark of
his prowess. He was now at the entrance of the chapel, and striking the
door over which he had previously climbed a violent blow with the bar,
i:, flew open. To vault over the pews was the work of a moment ; and
having gained the entry leading to the Red Room, he passed through the
first door, his progress being only impeded by the pile of broken stones,
which he himself had raised. Listening at one of the doors leading to the
master-debtors' side, he heard a loud voice chanting a Bacchanalian melody ;
and the boisterous laughter that accompanied the song, convinced him that
no suspicion was entertained in that quarter. Entering the Red Room, he
crept through the hole in the wall, descended the chimney, and arrived
once more in his old place of captivity. How difterent were his present feel-
ings, compared with those he had experienced on quitting it ! Then, full
of confidence, he half doubted his power of accomplishing his designs.
Now he had achieved them, and felt assured of success. The vast heap of
rubbish on the floor had been so materially increased by the bricks and
i/iaster thrown down in his attack upon the wall of the Red Room, that it
was with some difiiculty that he could find the blanket, which was almost
I
THE NEW NEWGATE CALEiNDAR. 47
tniried beneath the pile. Ho next searched for his stockings and >ihoes, and
when found, put them on. He now prepared to return to the roof, and
tlirowing the blanket over his left arm, aiid shouldering the iron bar, he
again clambered up the chimney, regained the Red Room, hurried along
the first passage, crossed the chapel, threaded the entry to the Lower Leads,
and in less than three minutes after quitting the Castle, had reached the
northern extremity of the prison. Previously to his descent, he had left
the nail and spike on the wall, and with these he fastened the blanket to
the coping-stone. This done, he let himself carefully down by it, and
having only a few feet to drop, alighted in safety.
" Having now got fairly out of Newgate, for the second time, with a
heart throbbing with exultation, he hastened to make good his escape.
To his great joy he found a small garret door in the roof of the opposite
house open ; he entered it, crossed tlie room, in which there was only a
small truckle-bed, over which he stumbled, opened another door and gained
the stair-head. As he was about to descend, his chains slightly rattled.
' O lud ! what's that ? ' cried a female voice from an adjoining room
* Only the dog,' replied the rough tones of a man, and all was again silent
Securing the chain in the best way he could. Jack then hurried down two
pair of stairs, and had nearly reached the lobby, when a door suddenly
opened, and two persons appeared, one of whom held a light. Retreating
as quickly as he could. Jack opened the first door he came to, entered a
room, and searching in the dark for some place of concealment, fortunately
discovered a screen, behind which he crept."
Having lain down here for about two hours, he once more proceeded
down stairs, and saw a gentleman take leave of the family and quit the
house, lighted by the servant ; and as soon as the maid returned, he
resolved to venture at all hazards. In stealing down the stairs he stum-
bled against a chamber door, but instantly recovering himself, he got into
the street.
By this time it was after twelve o'clock, and passing by the watch-house
of St. Sepulchre, he bid the watchman good night ; and going up Holborn,
he turned down Gray's Inn Lane, and at about two in the moi-ning, he got
into the fields near Tottenham Court Road, where he took shelter in a cow-
house, and slept soundly for about three hours. His fetters were still on
his legs, and he dreaded the approach of daylight lest he should be disco-
vered. His mind, however, was somewhat relieved for the present, for at
sevpii o'clock the rain began to fall in torrents, so that no one ventured
near his hiding-place. Night coming on, the calls of hunger drove him to
seek some refreshment , and going to Tottenham Court Road, he ventured
to purchase some bread and cheese and small-beer at a chandler's shop.
He had during the day been planning various means to procure the release
of his legs from the bondage of his chains, and now having forty-five
shillings in his possession, he attempted to procure a hammer. His efforts,
however, proved ineffectual, and he was compelled to return to his shelter
for the night. The next day brought him no relief; and having again gone
to the chandler's shop, he once more went back to his place of concealment.
The next day was Sunday, and he now beat the basils of his irons with a
stone, so that he might slip them over his heels, but the master of the
cow-house coming, interrupted him, and demanded to know how he came
there so confined by irons. Ihe answer given was, that he had escaped
4B THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
from Bridewell, where lie had been confined because he was unable to give
security for the payment of a sum of money for the maintenance of a child
he had had sworn to him, and the master of the house desiring him to be
gone, then quitted him. A shoemaker soon after coming near, Jack called
him, and telling him the same story, induced him, by a bribe of twenty shil-
lings, to procure him a hammer and a punch. They set to work together
to remove the irons, and his legs were at length freed from this encumbrance
at about five o'clock.
When night came on, our adventurer ti^d a handkerchief about his
head, tore his woollen cap in several places, and also his coat and stockings,
so as to have the appearance of a beggar; and in this condition he went to
a cellar near Charing Cross, whei'e he supped on roast veal, and listened to
the conversation of the company, all of whom were talking of the escape
of Sheppard. On the Monday he sheltered himself at a public-house of
little trade in Rupert-street, and conversing witli the landlady about Shep-
pard, he told her it was impossible for him to get out of the kingdom, and
the keepers would certainly have him again in a few days ; on which the
woman wished that a curse might fall on those who should betray him.
On the next day he hired a garret in Newport Market, and soon after-
wards, dressing himself like a porter, he went to Blackfriars, to the house
of Mr. Applebee, printer of the dying speeches, and delivered a letter, in
which he ridiculed the printer and the Ordinary of Newgate, and inclosed
a communication for one of the keepers of the gaol.
Some nights after this he broke open the shop of jMr. Rawlins, a pawn-
broker, in Drury Lane, where he stole a sword, a suit of wearing apparel,
some snuff-boxes, rings, watches, and other effects to a considerable
amount ; and determining to make the appearance of a gentleman among
his old acquaintance in Drury Lane and Clare Jlarkct, he dressed himself
in a suit of black and a tie-wig, wore a ruffled shirt, a silver-hilted sword, a
diamond ring, and a gold watch, and joined them at supper, though he
knew that diligent search was making after him at that very time. On
the 31st of October he dined with two women at a public-house in New-
gate-street, and about four in the afternoon they all passed under Newgate
in a hackney-coach, having first drawn up the blinds. Going in the
evening to a public-house in IMaypole Alley, Clare Market, Sheppard sent
for his mother, and treated her with brandy, when the poor w^oman
dropped on her knees, and begged that he would immediately retire from
the kingdom. He promised to do so ; but now being grown mad from the
effects of the liquor he had drunk, he wandered about from public-house
to public-house in the neighbourhood till near twelve o'clock at night,
when he was apprehended in consequence of the information of an ale-house
boy, who knew him. When taken into custody he was quite senseless,
and was conveyed to Newgate in a coach, without beinor capable of making
any resistance, although he had two loaded pistols in his possession at the
time. He was now lodged securely enough ; and his fame being increased
by his recent exploits, he was visited by many persons of distinction,
whom he diverted by a recital of the particulars of many robberies in
which he had been concerned, but he invariably concluded his narration
by expressing a hope that his visitors would endeavour to procure the exer-
cise of the royal mercy in his jeiialf, to which he considered tnat hia
remarkable dexterity gave him some claim.
TDE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 49
Havino- been already convicted, it was unnecessary that the forms ot a
trial should be again gone through, and on the 10th of November he was
carried to the bar of the Conrt of King's Bench : when a record of his con-
viction having been read, and an affidavit made that he was the same per-
son alluded to in it, sentence of death was passed upon him by Mr. Justice
Powis, and a rule of court was made for his execution on the following
Monday. He subsequently regularly attended chapel in the gaol, and
behaved there with apparent decency, but on his quitting its walls, he did
not hesitate to endeavour to prevent any seriousness among his fellow pri-
soners. All his hopes were still fixed upon his being pardoned, and cveji
tvhen the day of execution arrived, he did not appear to have given over all
expectations of eluding justice ; for having been furnished with a penknife,
fie put it in his pocket, with a view, when the melancholy procession came
opposite Little Turnstile, to have cut the cord that bound his arms, and,
throv/ing himself out of the cart among the crowd, to have run through
the narrow passage where the sheriff's officers could not follow on
horseback, and he had no doubt but he should make his escape by the
assistance of the mob. It was not impossible that this scheme might have
succeeded ; but before Sheppard left the press-yard, one Watson, an officer,
searching his pockets, found the knife, and was cut with it so as to occasion
a great effusion of blood. He, however, had yet a farther view to his pre-
servation even after execution ; for he desired his acquaintance to put him
into a warm bed as soon as he should be cut down, and to try to open a
vein, which he had been told would restore him to life.
He behaved with great decency at the place of execution, and confessed
that he had committed two robberies, for which he had been tried, but
had been acquitted. His execution took place at Tyburn, on the 16th of
November, 1724, in the twenty-third year of his age. He died with
difficulty ; and there were not wanting those among the crowd assembled,
who pitied him for the fate which befel him at so early a period of his
life. When he was cut down, his body was delivered over to his friends,
who carried it to a public-house in Long Acre ; from which it was re-
moved in the evening, and buried in the church-yard of St. Martin's-in
the-Fields.
The adventures of this notorious offender excited more attention than
those of niany of our most celebrated warriors. He was, for a consideral)le
time, the principal subject of conversation in all ranks of society. Histo-
ries of his life issued from the press in a variety of forms. A pantomimic
entertainment was brought forward at Drury-lane theatre, called " Har-
lequin Sheppard," wherein his adventures, prison-breakings, and other
extraordinary escapes, were represented ; and another dramatic work was
published, as a farce of three acts, called " The Prison-Breaker ;" or, " The
Adventures of John Sheppard ;" and a part of it, with songs, catches,
and glees added, was performed at Bartholomew Fair, imder the title of
" The Quaker's Opera."
The arts too, were busied in handing to posterity memoranda for us
never to f-^llow the example of Jack Sheppard.
Sir James Thornhill *, the first painter of the day, painted his portrait,
* This celebrated painter, -whilst decorating the dome of St. Paul's Cathedral, nearly fell a
victim to his zeal in that undertaking. One day, when pursuing his task on the scaffold erected
round the dome tor Uaat uurpose, he kept walking backwards, surveying the effec-t of his Tori^
VOL. I. .a
OO THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
from which engravings in mezzotinto were made ; and the few still in
preservation are objects of curiosity. On this subject the following lines
were written at the time : —
" Thornhill, 'tis thine to gild with fame
The ohscure, and raise the humble name ;
To make the form elude the grave,
And Sheppard from oblivion save.
Though life in vain the wretch implores.
An exile on the farthest shores,
Thy pencil brings a kind reprieve.
And bids the dying robber live.
This piece to latest time shall stand,
And show the wonders of thy hand :
Thus former masters graced their name,
And gave egregious robbers fame.
Apelles Alexander drew,
Caesar is to Aurelius due ;
Cromwell in Lily's works doth shine,
And Sheppard, Thornhill, lives in thine."
In modern times, the adventures of Sheppard and his contemporaries
have become even better known and more remarked, in consequence of
the work to which we have already alluded, and from which we have
made an extract which details his exploits with great exactness ; but at
the same time o-ives to them a degree of romantic interest to which they
are hardly entitled. The rage for house-breakers has become immense,
and the fortunes of the most notorious and the most successful of thieves
have been made the subject of entertainments at no fewer than six of the
London theatres.
Blewitt, whose name is mentioned in the foregoing sketch, as one of
the earliest companions of Sheppard, was eventually hanged, with others,
for the murder of a fellow named Ball, a publican and ex-thief, who lived
in the jMint, and who had provoked the anger of his murderers, by threat-
enincr to denounce them. Their execution took place on the 12th of April,
1726.
until he had nearly approached the edge, from which another step would have precipitated him.
At this instant his servant, who perceived the danger his master was in, wth a wonderful pre-
sence of mind seized a pot of colour, and threw it over the painting. This caused Sir James
to rush forward for the preservation of his work, and he was thus saved from being dashed to
pieces which, but for this timely intervention, must have been his fate. This eminent man
painted the whole of the cupola of St. Paul's, and also the halls of Greenwich Hospital and
Blenheim. He was born in 1675, and was originally a house-painter, but afterwards applied
nimself to historical subjects, and equalled the best painters of his time. In 1719 he was
appointed Historical Painter to George I., and shortly afterwards was created a knight. He
was employed in several extensive works, for which he was in general very inadequately paid ;
and at times even found it difficult to obtain the stipulated price. His demands were contesteil
at Greenwich Hospital, although he only received 25a\ a square yard ; about the same time a
foreigner, for doing less work at Montague House, received 2000/. for bis work, besides COO/,
for his diet. For St. Paul's he received 40«. a square yard. He also decorated More Park,
but was obliged to sue Mr. Styles for it ; he, however, not only recovered 3,500/. the sum agreed
to >>e paid him, but 500/. more for decorations about the house. Notwithstanding these ditE
culties, he acquired a considerable fortune, and was several years in parliament ; lie w.is also a
Fellow' of the Roval Society. His genius was equally happy in history, allegory, landscape,
and architecture ; he even practised the last science as a man of business, and built several
houses. He died in 1734, iu the same place where he was born. He left a son, who follo^^ed
his father's profession ; and a daughter, who married the celebrated Hogarth.
TUB NEW NEWOaTE CALENDAR. 5}
JONATHAN AVILD.
EXECUTED FOR FELONIOUSLY CONNIVING WITH THIEVES.
The name of this most notorious offender must be familiar to all ; his
arts and practices are scarcely less universally known. The power exer-
cised by him over thieves of all classes, and of both sexes, was so great as
that he may have been considered their cliief and director, at the same
time that he did not disdain to become their coadjutor, or the participator
in the proceeds of their villany. The system which he pursued will be
sufficiently disclosed in the notices which follow of the various transactions
in which he was engaged ; but it appears to have been founded upon the
principle of employing a thief so long as his efforts proved profitable, or
until their suspension should be attended with advantage, and then of ter-
minating his career in the most speedy and efficacious manner, by the
gallows.
The subject of this narrative was born at "Wolverhampton in Stafibrd-
shire, about the year 1682 ; and his parents being persons of decent
character and station, he was put to school, where he gained a competent
knowledge of the ordinary minor branches of education. At the age of
fifteen he was apprenticed to a buckle-maker, at Birmingham; and at the
age of twenty-two, his time having expired, he was united to a young
woman of respectability, whom he was well able to support by the exer-
cise of his trade. His wife soon afterwards presented him with a son ; but
getting tired of a life of quietude, he started for London, leaving his wife
and child destitute, and soon gained fresh employment. His disposition,
however, led him into extravagances, and having contracted some debts,
he was arrested, and thrown into AVood-street Compter, where, according
to his own statement, " it was impossible but he must, in some measure,
be led into the secrets of the criminals there under confinement, and
particularly under Air. Hitchin's management." He remained in prisor
upwards of four years, and the opportunity which was aftbrded him, of
becoming acquainted with the persons, as well as the practices of thieves
was not lost upon him. A woman named Mary Milliner, one of the most
abandoned prostitutes and pickpockets on the town, who was also in
custody for debt, soon attracted his attention, and an intimacy having
commenced in the prison, on their discharge they lived together a*; man
and wife. The possession of a small sum of money having been obtained,
they opened a public-house in Cock Alley, Cripplegate ; and from the
notoriety of Airs. Alilliner, and her intimate acquaintance Avith the thieves
of the metropolis, it soon became the resort of the lowest of the class
AVhile AV'ild was thus pursuing his course to his pecuniary jwlvantage,
however, he lost no time in acquiring a proficiency in all trie arts of
knavery ; and having, Avith great assiduity, penetrated into the secrets of
bis customers, he started as a " fence," or receiver of stolen goods ; and by
this means he obtained that power, which subsequently proved so useful
to him, and so dangerous to those who entrusted him with their secrets. He
was at first at little trouble to dispose of the articles brought to him by
thieves at something less than their real value, no law existing for the
punishment of the receivers of stolen goods; but the evil "having increased
52 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
at length to an enormous degree, it was deemed expedient by the legisla-
ture to frame a law for its suppression ; and an act was therefore passed,
consionin2; such as should be convicted of receivino; Poods, knowing them
to have been stolen, to transportation for the space of fourteen years.
This was a check of no very trifling character to his proceedings, but
his imagination suggested to him a plan by which he would save himself
from all his profits being lost. He therefore called a meeting of thieves,
and observed that, if they carried their booties to such of the pawnbrokers
as were known to be not much affected by scruples of conscience, they would
scarcely receive on the property one-fourth of the real value ; and that if
they were oftered to strangers, either for sale or by way of deposit, it was
a chance of ten to one but the parties offering were rendered amenable to
the laws. The most industrious thieves, he said, were now scarcely able to
obtain a livelihood, and must either submit to be half-starved, or live in
great and continual danger of Tyburn. He had, however, devised a plan
for removing the inconveniences which existed, which he would act upon
most honourably, providjd they would follow his advice, and behave
towards him with equal honesty. He proposed, therefore, that when they
made prize of anything, they should deliver it to him, instead of carrying it
to the pawnbroker, saying, that he would restore the goods to the owners,
by which means greater sums might be raised, while the thieves would
remain perfectly secure from detection. This proposition was one which
met with universal approbation, and the plan was immediately carried into
effect, convenient places being established as the depositaries of the stolen
goods. The plan thus concerted, it became the business of ^Yild to apply
to persons who had been robbed, and pretending to be greatly concerned at
their misfortunes, to say, that some suspected goods had been stopped by a
friend of his, a broker, who would be willing to give them up ; and he
failed not then to throw out a hint that the broker merited some reward
for his disinterested conduct and for his trouble, and to exact a promise
that no disagreeable consequences should follow, becavise the broker had
omitted to secure the thieves as well as the property. The person whose
goods had been carried off" was not generally unwilling by this means to
save himself the trouble and expense of a prosecution, and the money paid
was. generally sufficient to remunerate the "broker," as well as his agent.
This trade was successfully carried on for several years, and considerable
sums of money were amassed ; but at length another and a safer plan was
adopted. The name of our hero having become pretty extensively known,
instead of applying to the parties who had been plundered, he opened an
office, to which great numbers resorted, in the hope of obtaining the resti-
tution of their property. In this situation he lost no opportunity of pro-
curing for himself the greatest credit, as well as the greatest profit possible.
He made a great parade in his business, and assumed a consequence which
■enabled him more effectually to impose upon the public. When persona
came to his office, they were informed that they must each pay a crown in
consideration of receiving his advice. This ceremony being despatched, he
entered into his book the name and address of the applicants, with all the
particulars they could communicate respecting the robberies, and the
rewards that would be given provided the goods were recovered : they were
then required to call again in a few days, when, he said, he hoped he
should be able to give them some agreeable intelligence. Upon returning
TllK NEW NKWGATE CALENDAR. 53
to know thtj success of his inquiries, he told them that he had received
KMine information concerning their goods, hut that the agent he had
em ployed to trace them had apprised him that the rohhcrs pretended they
could "raise more money by pawning the property than by restoring it for
the ])romised reward ; saying, however, that if he could by any means
jirocure an interview' with the villains, he doubted not of being able to
settle matters agreeably to the terms already stipulated ; but, at the same
time, artfully insinuating that the safest and most expeditious method
would be to make some addition to the reward ; and thus having secured
tlu? promise of the largest sum that could be obtained, he would direct a
tliird call, and then the goods would be ready to be delivered. It will be
seen that considerable advantages were derived from examining the person
who had been robbed; for by that means he became acquainted with par-
ticulars which the thieves might omit to communicate, and was enabled
to detect them if they concealed any part of their booties. Being in pos-
session of the secrets of every notorious thief, they were imder the necessity
of comjdying with whatever terms he thought proper to exact, because
they were aware that, by opposing his inclination, they would involve
themselves in the most imminent danger of being sacrificed t) the injured
laws of their coimtry ; and thus he was enabled to impose both on the
robber and the robbed. The accumulation of money by these artifices
enabled Wild to maintain the character of a man of consequence ; and to
support his imaginary dignity, he dressed in laced clothes and wore a sword,
which martial instrument he first exercised on the person of his accom-
plice and reputed wife, Mary JMilliner, who having on some occasion pro-
voked him, he instantly struck at her with it, and cut off one of her ears-
Tliis event was the cause of separation ; but in acknowledgment of the
gi'eat services she had rendered him, by introducing him to so advantageous
a profession^ he allowed her a weekly stipend till her decease.
In the year 1715 Wild removed from his house in Cock Alley to a Mrs.
Seagoe's, in the Old Bailey, where he pursued his business with the usual
success ; but while resident there, a controversy of a most singular character
arose between him and a fellow named Charles Ilitchin, who had been city
marshal, but had been suspended for mal- practices, to whom before his
adoption of the lucrative profession which he now carried on, he had
acted as assistant. These celebrated copartners in villany, under the pre-
text of controlling tlie enormities of the dissolute, paraded the streets from
Temple-bar to the Jlinories, searching houses of ill-fame, and apprehending
disorderly and suspected persons; but those who complimented the
reformers with douceurs, were allowed to practise every species of wicked
ness with impunity. Hitchin and Wild, however, grew jealous of each
other, and an open rupture taking place, they parted, each pursuing the
business of tliief-taking on his own account.
Our readers will doubtless be somewhat surprised to hear that these
rivals in AiUany appealed to the public, and attacked each other with all
possible scurrility in pamphlets and advertisements. Never was the press
so debased as in publishing the productions of their pens. Hitchin pub-
lished what he called "The Regulator; or a Discovery of Thieves and
'Thief-takers." It is an ignorant and impudent insult to the reader, and
ireplete with abuse of Wild, whom he brands, in his capacity of thiet-
ttaker, with being worse than the thief, W ild retorts with great bitterness •
54 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
but Hitchin having gi-eatly debased the respectable post of city raarshal,
the lord mayor suspended him from that office. In order to repair hiu
loss, he determined, as the most prudent step, to strive to bury his aversion,
and confederate witli Wild. To effect this, he wrote as follows :
" I am sensible that you are let into the knowledge of the secrets of the
Compter, particularly with relation to the securing of pocket-books; but
your experience is inferior to mine : I can put you in a far better method
than you are acquainted with, and which may be done with safety ; for
though I am suspended, I still retain the power of acting as constable, and
notwithstanding- I cannot be heard before my lord mayor as formerly, I
have interest among the aldermen upon any complaint.
" But I must first tell you that you sj^oil the trade of thief-taking, in
advancing greater rewards than are necessary. I give but half-a-crown a
book, and when thieves and pickpockets see you and me confederate, they
will submit to our terms, and likewise continue their thefts, for fear of
coming to the gallows by our means. You shall take a turn with me, as
my servant or assistant, and we'll commence our rambles this night."
Wild it appears readily accepted the ex-marshal's proposals, and they
accordingly proceeded to take their walks together, imposing upon the
unwary and confederating with thieves, whom at the same time they did
not hesitate to make their slaves. One or two instances of their mode of
doing business may not be uninteresting. They are taken from a pamphlet
written by Wild, and may therefore be supposed to be correct.
" A biscuit-baker near Wapping having lost a pocket-book containing,
among other papers, an exchequer bill lor 100/., applied to AVild for its
recovery : the latter advised him to advertise it, and stop the payment of
the bill, which he did accordingly ; but having no account of his property,
he came to Wild several times about it, and at length told him that he had
received a visit from a tall man, with a long peruke and sword, calling
himself the city-marshal, who asked him if he had lost his pocket-book ?
He said that he had, and desired to know the inquii'er's reasons for putting
such a question, or whether he could give him any intelligence ; but he
replied, No, he could not give him any intelligence of it as yet, and wished
to be informed whether he had employed any person to search after it ?
He said that he had employed one Wild ; whereupon the marshal told
him he was under a mistake ; that he should have applied to him, as he
was the only person in England that coxild serve him, being well assured
it was entirely out of the power of Wild, or any of those fellows, to know
where the pocket-book was (this was very certain, he having it at that
time in his custody) ; and begged to know the reward that would be given ?
The biscuit-baker replied that he would give ten pounds, but the marshal
said that a greater reward should be offered, for that exchequer bills and those
things were ready money, and could immediately be sold ; and that if he
had employed him in the beginning, and offered forty or fifty pounds, he
would have served him. Wild gave it as his opinion, that the pocket-
book was in the marshal's possession, and that it would be to no purpose
to continue advertising it ; and he advised the owner rather to advance his
bidding, considering what hands the note was in, especially as the marshal
had often told him how easily he could dispose of bank-notes and cxche-
<|uer-notes at gaming-houses, which he very much frequented. Pursuant
to this advice, the losing party went to the marshal, and bid forty
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 55
pounds for his pocket-book and bill, but ' Zounds, sir,* said the marslial,
you are too late ! ' and that was all the satisfaction he gave him. Thus
Vi^as the poor biscuit-baker tricked out of his exchequer-bill, which was
paid to another person, though it could never be traced back ; but it hap-
pened a short time after, that some of the young fry of pickpockets, under
the tuition of the marshal, fell out in sharing the money given them for
this very pocket-book ; whereupon one of them came to Wild, and disco-
vered the whole matter, viz. that he had sold the pocket-book, with the
100/. exchequer-note in it, and other bills, to the city-marshal, at a tavern
in Aldersgate-street, for four or five guineas."
" The marshal going one night up Ludgate Hill, observed a well-dressed
woman walking before, whom he told Wild was a lewd woman, for that
ne saw her talking with a man. This was no sooner spoke but he seized
Der, and asked who she was. She made answer that she was a bailiflPa
wife. ' You are more likely to be a prostitute,' said the marshal, ' and as
such you shall go to the Compter.'
" Taking the woman through St. Paul's churchyard, she desired liberty to
send for some friends, but he would not comply with her request. He
forced her into the Nag's Head tavern in Cheapside, where he presently
ordered a hot supper and plenty of wine to be brought in ; commanding
the female to keep at a distance from him, and telling her that he did not
permit such vermin to sit in his company, though he intended to make her
pay the reckoniug. When the supper was brought to the table, he fell to
it lustily, and would not allow the woman to eat any part of it with him,
or to come near the fire, though it was extreme cold weather. When he
had supped he stared round, and applying himself to her, told her that if
he had been an informer, or such a fellow, she would have called for eatables
and wine herself, and not have given him the trouble of direction, or else
would have slipped a piece into his hand ; adding, ' You may do what
you please ; but I can assure you it is in my power, if I see a woman in
the hands of informers, to discharge her, and commit them. You are not
so ignorant but you must guess my meaning.' She replied, ' that she had
money enough to pay for the supper, and about three half-crowns more ;'
and this desirable answer being given, he ordered his attendant to with-
Iraw, while he compounded the matter with her.
" When Wild returned, the gentlewoman was civilly asked to sit by the
fire, and eat the remainder of the supper, and in all respects treated very
kindly, only with a pretended reprimand to give him better language when-
ever he should speak to her for the future ; and, after another bottle drunk
at her expense, she was discharged."
The object of these allegations on the part of Wild may be easily seen,
and the effect which he desired was at length produced ; for the marshal,
having been suspended, and subsequently fined twenty pounds, and pilloried,
for a crime too loathsome to be named, he was at length compelled to
retire ; and thus he left Wild alone to execute his plans of depredation
upon the public. The latter, not unmindful of the tenure upon which his
reputation hung, was too wary to allow discontent to appear among his
followers, and therefore he found it to his interest to take care that where
he promised them protection, his undertaking should not be neglected or
pass unfulfilled. His powers in supportmg his word were greater than
can be well imagined, in the present state of things, Avhere so much cor-
56 TUE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
ruption has been got rid of; and where his influence among persons in
office faik'd him, his exertions in procuring the testimony of false witnesses
to rebut that evidence which was truly detailed, and the nature of which he
could always learn beforehand, generally enabled him to secure the object,
which he had in view. His threats, however, were not less amply fulfilled
than his promises ; and his vengeance once declared was never withdrawn,
and seldom failed in being carried out.
By his subjecting such as incurred his displeasure to the punishment
of the law, he obtained the rewards offered for pursuing them to conviction ;
and gi-eatly extended his ascendancy over the other thieves, who considered
him with a kind of awe ; while, at the same time, he established his
character as being a man of great public utility.
A few anecdotes of the life and proceedings of this worthy will suffi-
ciently exhibit the system which he pursued.
A lady of fortune being on a visit in Piccadilly, her servants, leaving
lier sedan at the door, Avent to refresh themselves at a neighbouring public-
house. Uj)on their return the vehicle was not to be found ; in consequence
of which the men immediately went to AVild, and having informed him of
their loss, and complimented him with the usual fee, they were desired to
call upon him again in a few days. Upon their second application Wild
extorted from them a considerable reward, and then directed them to attend
tlie chapel in Lincoln's-inn- Fields on the following morning, during the
time of pravers. The men went according to the appointment, and under
the piazzas of the chapel perceived the chair, which upon examination they
found to contain the velvet seat, curtains, and other furniture, and that it
had received no kind of damage.
A thief of most infamous character, named Arnold Powel, being con-
fined in Newgate, on a charge of having robbed a house in the neighbour-
hood of Golden Square of property to a great amount, was visited by-
Jonathan, who informed him that, in consideration of a sum of money, he
would save his life ; adding that if the proposal was rejected, he should
inevitably die at Tyburn for the oftence on account of which he was then
imprisoned. The prisoner, however, not believing that it was in Wild's
power to do him any injury, bade him defiance. He was brought to trial;
but through a defect of evidence he was acquitted. Having gained intel-
ligence that Powel had committed a burglary in the house of Mr. Eastlick,
near Fleet Ditch, "Wild caused that gentleman to prosecute the robber.
Upon receiving information that a bill w-as found for the burglary, Powel
sent for Wild, and a compromise was effected according to the terms which
Wild himself had proposed, in consequence of which Powel was assured
that his life should be preserved. Upon the approach of the sessions
Vx'li.d informed the prosecutor that the first and second days would be
employed in other trials ; and as he was willing Mr. Eastlick should avoid
attending with his witnesses longer than was necessary, he would give
tirielv notice when Powel would be arraigned. But he contrived to have
;he prisoner put to the bar ; and no persons appearmg to prosecute, he
was necessarily dismissed; and the court ordered Mr. Eastlick's recogni-
sances to be estreated. Powel Avas ordered to remain in custody till the
next sessions, there being another indictment against him ; and Mr.
Eastlick represented the behaviour of Wild to the court, who reprimanded
nim with great severity. Powel now put himself into a salivation, in
TUE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 57
*r'ler to avoid being brought to trial the next sessions ; but, notwithstand-
ing this stratagem, he was arraigned and convicted, and was executed on
the 20th of March, 1717.
At this time Wild quitted his apartments at Mrs. Seagoc's, and hired
a house adjoining to the Coojiers' Arms, on the opposite side of the
Old Bailey. His unexampled villanics were now become an object of
so much consequence, as to excite the particular attention of the legisla-
ture ; and in the year 1718 an act was passed, deeming every person guilty
of a capital offence who should accept a reward in consequence of
restoring stolen effects without prosecuting the thief. It was the general
opinion that this law would effectually suppress tlie iniquitous practices
he had carried on ; but, after some interruption to his proceedings, he
devised means for evading it, which were for several years attended with
success.
He now declined the custom of receiving money from the persons who
applied to him ; but, upon the second or third time of calling, informed
them that all he had been able to learn respecting their business was, that
if a sum of money was left at an appointed place, their property would be
restored tlie same day. Sometimes, as the person robbed was returning
from AVild's house be was accosted in the street by a man who delivered
the stolen effects, at the same time producing a note, expressing the sum
that was to be paid for them ; but in cases where he supposed danger was
to be apprehended, be advised people to advertise that whoever would
bring the stolen goods to Jonathan Wild sliould be rewarded, and no
questions asked.
In the two first instances it could not be proved that he either saw the
thief, received the goods, or accepted of a reward ; and in the latter case he
acted agreeably to the directions of the injured party, and there appeared
no reason to criminate him as being in confederacy with the felons.
Our adventurer's business had by this time so much increased, that he
opened an office in Newtoner's-lane, to the management of which he
appointed his man Abraham Mendez, a Jew. This fellow proved a
remarkably industrious and faithful servant to Jonathan, who entrusted
him with matters of the greatest importance, and derived great advantage
from his labours. The species of despotic governuient which he exercised
may be well collected from the following case : — He had inserted in his
book a gold watch, a quantity of fine lace, and other property of consider-
able value, which one John Butler had stolen from a house at Newington
Green ; but Butler, instead of coming to account as usual, gave up his
felonious practices, and lived on the produce of his booty. AVild, highly
enraged at being excluded his share, determined to pursue every possible
means to secure his conviction.
Being informed that he lodged at a public house in Bishopsgate-street,
he went to it early one morning, when Butler, hearing him ascending the
stairs, jumped out of the window of his room, and climbing over the wall
of the yard got into the street. Wild broke open the doof of the room,
but was disappointed at finding that the man of whom he was in pursuit
had escaped. In the meantime Butler ran into a house the door of which
stood open, and descending to the kitchen, where some women were
washing, told them he was pursued by a bailiff, and they advised him to
conceal liimself in the coal-hole. Jonathan coming out of the ale-house,
VOL. 1. k
58 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
and seeing a shop on the opposite side of tlie way open, inquired of the
master, who was a dyer, whether a man had not taken refuge in his house ?
The dyer answered in the negative, saying he had not left his shop more
than a minute since it had been opened. Wild then requested to search
the house, and the dyer having readily complied, he proceeded to the
kitchen, and asked the women if they knew whether a man had taken
shelter in the house. They also denied tliat they had, but on his informing
them that tlie man he sought was a thief, they said he would find him in
the coal-hole.
Having procured a candle, Wild and his attendants searched the place
without effect, and they examined every part of the house with no better
success. He observed that the villain must have escaped into the street ;
but the dyer saying that he had not quitted the shop, and it was impossible
that a man "•-Id pass to the street without his knowledge, they all again
went into the cellar, and, after some time spent in searching, the dyer
i (irned up a large vessel used in his business, and Butler appeared.
Butler, howevei", knowing the means by which an accommodation might
be effected, directed our hero to go to his lodging, and look behind the
head of the bed, where he would find what would recompense him for his
time and ti'ouble. Wild went to the place, and found what perfectly
satisfied him ; but as Butler had been apprehended in a public manner,
the other was under the necessity of taking him before a magistrate, who
committed him for trial. He was tried at the ensuing sessions at the Old
Bailev ; but, by the artful management of Wild, instead of being con-
demned to die, he was only sentenced to transportation.
The increased quantity of unclaimed property now in his liands,
compelled Wild to seek some new mode of disposing of it, in a manner
which should benefit him ; and with this view he purchased a sloop, in
order to transport the goods to Holland and Flanders, where he conceived
he should find an easy market for them. The command of his vessel
was entrusted to a fellow named Johnson, a notorious thief; and Ostend
was selected by him as the port to which the vessel should principally
trade. The goods, however, not being all disposed of there, he would
carrv them to Bruges, Ghent, Brussels, and other places. In return he
brouo-ht home lace, wine, brandy, and the other commodities of the
countries which he visited, which he always contrived to land without
affordino- any trouble to the officers of his Majesty's customs. When this
traffic had continued for about two years, a circumstance occurred which
entirely and effectually prevented its being any longer carried on. Five
pieces of lace were missing on the arrival of the ship in England, and
Johnson, deeming the mate to be answerable for its production, deducted
their value from the amount due to him for his pay. The latter was
naturally violently irritated at this harsh proceeding, and he forthwith
lodijed an information against his captain, for running goods subject to
exciseable duties. The vessel was in consequence seized, and Johnson was
cast into prison for penalties to the amount of 7()0/. This was of course
the ruin of the commercial proceedings ; and the only remaining subject to
be touched upon in this sketch is that which proved the ruin, and the
termination of the career of Jonathan Wild.
Johnson having obtained his liberty from the government prosecution,
BJMia returned to his old practices of robbery ; but it was not long before
X-^.^/^^^^^^^^^:^ >^W/^'-^^
TUE NEW MEWOATE CALENDxVK. 59
a disagreement took place between him and Thomas Edwards, tlie keeper of
a house which was t!ie resort of thieves, in Long -lane, with respect to the
division of some spoil, and meeting one day in the Strand, a scene of
mutual recrimination took place between them, and they were at length
both taken into custody. Johnson was bailed by Wild, and Edwards
gained his liberty by there being no prosecution against him ; but his
enmity being now diverted in some degree from Johnson to Wild, he was
no sooner at large than he gave information against him, in consequence of
which, his warehouses being searched, a great quantity of stolen goods was
discovered. It was pretended that the property belonged to Johnson, and
Edwards was arrested at his suit for a supposed debt, and lodged in the
JMarslialsea ; but he soon procured bail. His anger against Johnson for this
act was much increased, and he determined to have his revenge upon him ;
and meeting him in the Whitechapel-road,.he gave him into the custody of an
officer, who conveyed him to a neighbouring ale-house. AVild being sent for,
made his appearance, accompanied by Quilt Arnold, one of his assistants,
and they soon raised a riot, in the midst of which the prisoner ran off.
Information was immediately given of the escape, and of Wild's interference
in it ; and the attention of tlie authorities being now called to this notorious
offender, he judged it piiident to abscond, and he remained concealed for
three weeks. He was unaware of the extent of the danger which threatened
him, however, and at the end of that time he returned to his house. Being
apprised of tliis, Mr. Jones, high -constable of Holboru division, went to his
house in the Old Bailey ; and on the 15th of February, 17*25, apprehended
him and Quilt Arnold, and took them before Sir John Fryer, who com-
mitted them to Newgate, on a charge of having assisted in the escape
of Johnson.
On Wednesday, the 24th of the same month, Wild moved to be either
admitted to bail or discharged, or brought to trial that session ; and on the
following Friday a warrant of detainer was produced against him in Court,
to which were affixed the following articles of information : —
I. That for many years past he had been a confederate with great
numbers of highwaymen, pick-pockets, housebreakers, shop-lifters, and
other thieves.
II. That he had foi'med a kind of corporation of thieves, of which he
was the head or director ; and that notwithstanding his pretended services
in detecting and prosecuting offenders, he procured such only to be hanged
as concealed their booty, or refused to share it with him.
III. That he had divided the town and country into so many districts,
and appointed distinct gangs for each, who regularly accounted with him
for their robberies. That he had also a particular set to steal at churches
in time of divine service ; and likewise other moving detachments to attend
at court on birth-days, balls, &c. and at both houses of parliament, circuits,
and country fairs.
IV. That the persons employed by him were for the most part felon
convicts, who had returned from transportation before the time for which
they were transported was expired ; and that he made choice of them to
be his agents, because they could not be legal evidences against him, and
because he had it in his power to take from them what part of the stolen
^oods he thought fit, and otherwise use them ill, or hang them, as he
pleased.
00 TUE NEW NEWGATE CALE>1)AK.
V. That he had from time to time siipi)lied such convicted felons with
money and clothes, and lodged them in liis own house, the better to conceal
tiiem : particularly some against whom there are now informations for
counterfeiting and diminishing broad-pieces and guineas.
Yl. Tiiat he had not only been a receiver of stolen goods, as well as of
writings of all kinds, for near fifteen years past, but had frequently been a
confederate, and robbed along with the above-mentioned convicted felons.
YIl. That in order to carry on these vile practices, and to gain some
credit with the ignorant multitude, he usually carried a short silver staff,
as a badge of authority from the government, which he used to produce
when he himself was concerned in robbing.
YIII. That he had, under his care and direction, several warehouses for
receiving and concealing stolen goods; and also a ship for carrying off
jewels, watches, and other valuable goods, to Holland, Avhere he had a
superannuated thief for his factor.
IX. That he kept in pay several artists to make alterations, and trans-
form watches, seals, snuff-boxes, rings, and other valuable things, that
tliey might not be known, several of which he used to present to such
persons as he thought might be of service to him.
X. Tliat he seldom or never helped the owners to the notes and papers
they had lost unless he found them able exactly to specify and describe
tliem, and then often insisted on having more than half their value.
XI. And, lastly, it appeared that he had often sold human blood, by
procuring false evidence to swear persons into facts of which they were
not guilty ; sometimes to prevent them from being evidences against Jiim-
self, and at other times for the sake of the great rewards given by the
government.
The information of Mr. Jones was also read in court, setting forth
that two persons would be produced to accuse the prisoner of capital
offences. The men alluded to in the affidavit were John Follard and
Thomas Butler, who had been convicted, but pardoned on condition of
their appearing to support the prosecution against their former master.
On the l:?th of April a motion for the postponement of the trial until the
ensuing sessions was made on behalf of "Wild, and after some discussion it
was granted; the ground of the postponement being alleged to be the
absence of two material witnesses for the defence, named Hays, of the
Packhorse, Turnham Green, and Wilson, a clothier at Frome, in
(Somersetshire.
On Saturday, May li, 1725, the trial came on, and the prisoner was
tlien arraigned on an indictment for privately stealing in the house of
Catherine Stretham, in the parish of St. Andrew, Holborn, fifty yards of
Jace, the property of the said Catherine, on the22dof January in the same
year.
He was also indicted for feloniously receiving from the said Catherine,
on the 10th of March, the sum often guineas, on account and under pre-
tence of restoring tlie said lace, and procuring the apprehension and prose-
cution of the person by whom the same was stolen.
Before the trial came on, the prisoner was not a little industrious in
endeavouring to establish a feeling in his favour, and he distributed a great
number of printed paj^ers among the jurymen and others walking about
the court, entitledj " A List of persons discovered, apprehended, and con-
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 61
victcd of several robberies on tbe highway ; and also for burglaries ancl
housebreaking ; and also for returning from transportation ; by Jonathan
Wild." The list contained the names of thirty- five persons for robbing on
the highway, twenty-two for housebreaking, and ten for returning fron>
transportation, and tlie following note was appended to it.
"■ Several others have been also convicted for the like crimes ; but, remem-
bering not the persons' names who had been robbed, I omit the criminals
names.
" Please to observe that several others have been also convicted for
shoplifting, picking of pockets, &c. by the female sex, which ai'e capital
crimes, and which are too tedious to be inserted here, and the prosecutors
not willing of being exposed.
" In regard, therefore, of the numbers above convicted, some that have
yet escaped justice, are erideavouring to taVe away the life of the said
" Jonathan Wild."
The prisoner, being put to the bar, requested that the witnesses might be
examined apart, which was complied with.
The trial then commenced, and tlie first witness called was Henry
Kelly, who deposed that by the prisoner's direction lie went, in company
with Margaret Murphy, to the prosecutor's shop, under pretence of buyiiig
some lace ; that he stole a tin box, and gave it to jMurphy in order to
deliver to Wild, wlio waited in the street for the purpose of receiving their
booty, and rescuing them if they should be taken into custody ; that they
returned together to Wild's house, where the box being opened, was found
to contain eleven pieces of lace ; that Wild said he could afford to give no
more than five guineas, as he should not be able to get more than ten
guineas for returning the goods to the owner ; that the witness received as
'li's share three guineas and a crown, and that Murphy had what remained
of the five guineas.
^Margaret Murphy was next sworn, and her evidence corresponded in
every particular with that of the former witness*.
Catlicrine Stretham, the elder, deposed that between three and four in
the afternoon of the 2'2nd of January, a man and woman came to her house,
pretending that they wanted to purchase some lace ; that she showed them
two or three parcels, to the quality and price of which they objected ; and
that in about three minutes after they had left the shop #]ie missed a tin
box, containing a quantity of lace, the value of which she estimated at
fifty pounds.
"The prisoner's counsel on this contended, that he could not be legally
convicted, because the indictment positively expressed that he stole the lace
in the house, whereas it had been proved in evidence that he was at a consider-
able distance outside when the fact was committed. They allowed that he
might be liable to conviction as an accessory before the fact, or for
receiving the property, knowing it to be stolen ; but conceived that he
could not be deemed gnilty of a capital felony, unless the indictmeni
declared (as the act directs) that he did assist, command, or /iire.
Lord Raymond, who presided, in summing up the evidence, observed that
the guilt of the prisoner was a point beyond all dispute ; but that, as a
* It may not be uninteresting to tlie readei to know that Murphy was executed on the 27th
jf *l>rcb, 1728, for stealing plate.
62 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
Similar case was not to be found in the law-books, it became his duty to
act vnth groat caution : he was not perfectly satisfied that the construction
urged by the counsel for the crown could be put upon the indictment ; and.
as the life of a fellow-creature was at stake, he recommended the prisoner
to the mercy of the jury, who brought in their verdict Not Guilty.
"Wild Avas then arraigned on the second indictment, which alleged
an offence committed during his confinement in Newgate. The indictment
being opened by the counsel for the crown, the following clause in an act
passed in the fourth year of the reign of George the First was ordered to
be read : —
" And whereas there are divers persons who have secret acquaintance
with felons, and who make it their business to help persons to their stolen
goods, and by that means gain money from them, which is divided between
them and the felons, whereby they greatly encourage such offenders ; be
it therefore enacted by the authority aforesaid, that whenever any person
taketh money or reward, directly or indirectly, under pretence or upon
account of helping any person or persons to any stolen goods or chattels,
every such person so taking money or reward as aforesaid (nnless such
person do apprehend or cause to be apprehended such felon who stole the
same, and give evidence against him) shall be guilty of felony, according
to the nature of the felony committed in stealing such goods, and in such
and the same manner as if such offender had stolen such goods and chat-
tels in the manner, and with such circumstances, as the same were stolen,'
Mrs. Stretham then, having repeated the evidence which she had before
given, went on to state that on the evening of the robbery she went to the
house of the prisoner in order to employ him in recovering the goods, but
that not finding him at home, she advertised them, offering a reward of
fifteen guineas for their return, and promising that no questions should be
asked. Tlie advertisement proved ineffectual, and she therefore again went
tu the house of the prisoner, and seeing him, by his desire she gave an
account of the transaction and of the appearance of the thieves. He pro-
mised to inquire after her property, and desired her to call again in a few
days. She did so, and at this second visit he informed her that he had
gained some information respecting her goods, and expected more ; and a
man who was present said that he thought that Kelly, Avho had been tried
for passing plated sliillings, was the offender. The witness again went to
the prisoner on the day on which he Avas apprehended, and said that she
would give twenty-five guineas rather than not have her lace back ; on
which he told her not to be in too great a hurry, for that the people who
•lad stolen the lace were out of town, and that he should soon cause a dis-
ao-reement between them, by which he should secure the property on more
easy terms. On the 10th of March, she received a message, that if she
would go to the prisoner in Newgate, and take ten guineas with her, lier
lace would be returned to her. She went to him accordingly, and a porter
being called, he gave her a letter, saying it was addressed to the person to
whom he was directed to apply for the lace, and the i)orter would accom-
pany her to carry the box home. She declined going herself, and then the
prisoner desired her to give the money to the porter, who would go for
her and fetch the goods, but said that he could not go without it, for tliat
the people who had the lace would not give it up without being paid. She
gave the money and the man went away, but in a short time he returned
THE XEAV NEWGATE CALENDAR. 6S
y<nth a box sealed up, but not tlie box which she had lost. On opening it,
she found that it contained all her lace except one piece. She asked the
prisoner what satisfaction he expected, when he answered " Not a farthing ;
I have no interested views in matters of this kind, but act from a principle
of serving people under misfortune. I hope I shall soon be able to recover
the other piece of lace, and to return you the ten guineas, and perhaps
cause the thief to be apprehended. For the service I can render you I
shall only expect your prayers. I have many enemies, and know not what
wi!l be the consequence of this imprisonment."
The prisoner's counsel argued, that as INIurphy had deposed that "Wild,
Kelly, and she, were concerned in the felony, the former could by no means
be considered as coming within the description of the act on which the
indictment was founded ; for the act in question was not meant to operate
against the actual perpetrators of felony, but to subject such persons to
punishment as held a correspondence with felons.
The counsel for the crown observed, that from the evidence adduced, no
doubt could remain of the prisoner's coming under the meaning of the act,
since it had been proved that he had engaged in combinations with felons,
and had not discovered them.
The judge was of opinion that the case of the prisoner was clearly within
the meaning of the act ; for it was plain that he had maintained a secret
correspondence with felons, and received money for restoring stolen goods
to the owners, which money was divided between him and the felons, whom
he did not prosecute. The jury pronounced him guilty, and he was sen-
tenced to be executed at Tyburn, on Monday the 24th of May, 1725.
When he was under sentence of death, he frequently declared that he
thought tne services he had rendered the public in returning the stolen
goods to the owners, and apprehending felons, was so great, as justly to
entitle him to the royal mercy. He said that had he considered his case
as being desperate, he should have taken timely measures for inducing some
powerful friends at Wolverhampton to intercede in his favour ; and that he
thought it not unreasonable to entertain hopes of obtaining a pardon through
the interest of some of the dukes, earls, and other persons of high distinc-
tion, who had recovered their property through his means.
He was observed to be in an unsettled state of mind ; and being asked
whether he knew the cause thereof, he said he attributed his disorder to
the many wounds he had received in apprehending felons ; and particu-
larly mentioned two fractures of his skull, and his throat being cut by
Blueskin.
He declined attending divine service in the chapel, excusing himself on
account of his infirmities, and saying that there were many people highly
exasperated against him, and therefore he could not expect but that his
devotions would be interrupted by their insulting behaviour. He said he
had fasted four days, which had greatly increased his weakness. He asked
the Ordinary the meaning of the words " Cvirsed is every one that hangeth
»n a tree;" and what was the state of the soul immediately after its
departure from the body ? He w'as advised to direct his attention to
matters of more importance, and sincerely to repent of the crimes he had
committed.
By his des're the Ordinary administered the sacrament to him ; an^^
during the ceremony he appeared to be somewhat attentive and devout
64 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
Tlie evening preceding the day on which he suffered he inquired of the
Ordinary whether suicide could be deemed a crime; and after some con-
versation, he pretended to be convinced that self-murder was a mo?t
impious offence against the Almighty ; but about two in the morning, he
endeavoured to put an end to his life by drinking laudanum. On account
of the largeness of the dose, and his having fasted for a considerable time,
no other effect was produced than drowsiness, or a kind of stupefaction.
The situation of Wild being observed by two of his fellow-prisoners, they
advised him to rouse his spirits, that he might be able to attend to the
devotional exercises ; and taking him by the arms, they obliged him to
walk, which he could not have done alone, being much afflicted with the
gout. The exercise revived him a little ; but he presently became exceed-
ingly pale ; then grew very faint j a profuse sweating ensued ; and soon
afterwards his stomach discharged the greatest part of the laudanum.
Though he was somewhat recovered, he was nearly in a state of insensibi-
lity ; and in this situation he was put into the cart and conveyed to
Tyburn. In his way to the place of execution the populace treated him
with remarkable severity, incessantly pelting him with stones and dirt.
Upon his arrival at Tyburn he appeared to be much recoA^ered from the
effects of the poison ; and the executioner informed him that a reason-
able time would be allowed him for preparing himself for the important
change that he must soon experience. He continued sitting some time in
the cart ; but the populace were at length so enraged at the indulgence
shown him, that they outrageously called to the executioner to perform the
duties of his office, violently threatening him with instant death if he pre-
sumed any longer to delay. He judged it prudent to comply with their
demands ; and when he began to prepare for the execution, the popular
clamour ceased.
About two o'clock on the following momina: the remains of Wild were
interred in St. Pancras churchyard ; but a few nights afterwards the body
was taken up (for the use of the surgeons, as it was supposed). At mid-
night a hearse and six was waiting at the end of Fig Lane, where the coffin
was found the next day.
Wild had by the woman he married at Wolverhampton a son about
nineteen years old, who came to London a short time before the execution
of his father. He was a youth of so violent and ungovernable a disposition,
that it was judged right to confine him during the time of the execution,
lest he should excite the people to some tumult. He subsequently went to
one of the West India colonies.
The adventures of Wild are of a natiu-e to attract great attention, from
the multiplicity and variety of the offences of which he was guilty. It has
been hinted, that his career of crime having been suffered to continue so long
was in some degree attributable to the services which he performed for the
government, in arresting and gaining information against the disaffected,
during the troubles which characterised the early part of the reign of
George I. ; but whatever may have been the cause of his being so long
unmolested, whatever supineness on the part of the authorities, whether
wilful or not, may have procured for him so continued a reign of uninterrupted
wickedness, it cannot be doubted that the fact of his long safety tended so
much to the demoralisation of society, as that many years passed before it
tould assumx that tone, which the exertions of a felon like Wild were, so
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 6j
calculated to destroy. The existing generation cannot but congratulate
it3;.'lf upon the excellence of the improvements which have been made in our
laws, and the admirable effect which they have produced ; as well as upon
the exceedingly active vigilance of the existing police, by whom crime,
mslead of its being supported and fostered, is checked and prevented.
CATHERINE HAYES.
BURNT ALIVE FOR THE MURDER OF HER HUSBAND.
The case of this atrocious criminal only finds a parallel in that of tlw
monster of modern crime — Greenacre.
Catherine Hayes was the daughter of a poor man named Hall, who
lived at Birmingham, and having remained with her parents until she was
fifteen years of age, a dispute then arose, in consequence of which she set
off for London. On her way she met with some officers, who, remarking
that her person was engaging, persuaded her to accompany tliem to their
quarters at Great Ombersley, in Worcestershire. Having remained with
them some time, she strolled on into Warwickshire, and was there hired
into the house of Mr. Hayes, a respectable farmer. An intimacy soon
sprang up between her and the son of her master, which ended in a private
marriage taking place at Worcester ; and an attempt, on the part of the
officers, to entrap young Hayes into enlisting, rendered it necessary to
disclose the whole affair to the father. He felt that it would be useless
now to oppose his son, in consequence of what had taken place, and he in
consequence set him up in business as a carpenter. Mrs. Hayes, however,
was of a restless disposition, and persuaded him to enlist, wliich he did ;
and his regiment being ordered to the Isle of Wight, his wife followed
him. His father bought him off at an expense of 60/., and now gave him
property to the amount of about 261. per annum ; but after the marriage
had been solemnised about six years, Mrs. Hayes prevailed on ber husband
to come to London. On their arrival in the metropolis, Mr. Hayes took
a house, part of which he let in lodgings, and opened a shop in the
chandlery and coal trade, in which he was as successful as he could have
wished, but exclusive of his profit by shop keeping, he acquired a great deal
of money by lending small sums on pledges, for at this time the trade of
pawnbroking was followed by any one at pleasure, and was subjected to
no regulation.
Mr. Hayes soon found that the disposition of his wife was not of such
a nature as to promise him much peace. The chief pleasure of her life
consisted in creating and encouraging quarrels among her neighbours.
Sometimes she would speak of her husband, to his acquaintance, in terms
of great tenderness and respect ; and at other times she would represent
him to her female associates as a compound of everything tliat was con
temptible in human nature. On a particular occasion, she told a woman
that she should think it no more sin to murder him than to kill a dog. At
length her husband thought it prudent to remove to Tottenham-court-road,
where be carried on his former business, but lie then again removed to
Tyburn-road (now Oxford -street). He soon amassed wnat he considerea
a sufficient sum to enable him to retire from business, and he accordingly
VOL. I. K
66 TUE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
took lodgings near the same spot. A supposed son of Mrs. Hayes, by her
former connexion, who weni by the name of Billings, lived in the same
uouse, and he and Mrs. Hayes were in the habit of feasting themselves at
the expense of the husband of the latter. During his temporary absence
from town, her proceedings were so extravagant, that the neighbours
deemed it riglit to make her husband aware of the fact ; and on his return
he remonstrated with her on the subject, when a quarrel took place, which
ended in a fight. It is supposed that at this time the design of murdering
Mr. Hayes was formed by his wife, and it was not long before she
obtained a seconder in her horrid project in the person of her reputed son.
At this time a person named Thomas Wood came to town from Worcea-
tersliire, and seeking out Hayes, persuaded him to give him a lodging, as
he was afraid of being impressed. After he had been in town only a few
days, Mrs. Hayes informed him of the plot which existed, and endeavoured
to persuade him to join her and her son. He was at first shocked at the
notion of murdering his friend and benefactor, and rejected the proposals ;
but at length Mrs. Hayes, alleging that her husband was an atheist, and
had already been guilty of murdering two of his own children, one of
whom he had buried under an apple-tree, and the other under a pear-tree,
and besides urging that 1500/., which would fall to her at his death,
should be placed at the disposal of her accomplices, he consented. Shortly
after this. Wood went out of town for a few days, but on his retui-n he
found Mrs. Hayes, and her son, and husband, drinking together, and
apparently in good humour. He joined them at the desire of Hnvps. and
the latter boasting that he was not drunk, although they l.u,vi ..t*v*. a
guinea's worth of liquor among them, Billings proposed that he should try
whether he could drink half a dozen bottles of mountain wine, without
getting tipsy, and promised that if he did so, he would pay for the wine.
The proposal was agreed to, and the three murderers went ofi" to procure
the liquor. On their way, it was agreed among them that this was the
proper opportunity to carry their design into execution, and having pro-
cured the wine, for which i\Irs. Hayes paid half a guinea, Mr. Hayes
began to drink it, while his intended assassins regaled themselves with
beer. When he had taken a considerable quantity of the wine, he danced
about the room like a man distracted, and at length finished the whole
quantity : but, not being yet in a state of absolute stupefaction, his wife
sent for another bottle, which he also drank, and then fell senseless on the
floor. Having lain some time in this condition, he got, with much diffi-
culty, into another room, and threw himself on a bed. When he was
asleep, his wife told her associates that this was the time to execute their
plan, as there was no fear of any resistance on his part, and accordingly
Billings went into the room with a hatchet, with which he struck Hayes
so violently that he fractured ^lis skull. At this time Hayes's feet hung
off the bed ; and the torture arising from the blow made him stamp
repeatedly on the floor, which, being heard by Wood, he also went into
the room, and, taking the hatchet out of Billings' hand, gave the poor man
two more blows, which effectually despatched him. A woman, named
Springate, who lodged in the room over that where the murder was com-
mitted, hearing the noise occasioned by Hayes's stamping, imagined that
the parties might have quarrelled in consequence of their intoxication ; and
going down stairs, she told Mrs. Hayes that the noise had awakened Her
TKK XEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. G7
husband, her child, and herself. Catherine, however, had a ready answer to
this : she said some company had visited them, and were grown merry, but
they were on the point of taking their leave ; and Mrs. Springate returned
to her room well satisfied. Tlie murderers now consulted on the best
manner of disposing of the body, so as most effectually to prevent detec-
tion. ]Mrs. Hayes proposed to cut off the head, because, if the body was
found whole, it would be more likely to be known, and the villains agi-eeing
to this proposition, she fetched a pail, lighted a candle, and all of them
went into the room. Tiie men then drew the body partly off the bed, and
Billings supported the head, while Wood, with his pocket-knife, cut it off,
and the infamous woman held the pail to receive it, being as careful as
possible that the floor might not be stained with the blood. This being
done, they emptied the blood out of the pail into a sink by the window,
and poured several pails of water after it. Y/hen the head was cr.t off,
the woman recommended the boiling it till the flesh should part from the
bones ; but the other parties thought this operation would take up too
much time, and therefore advised the throwing it into the Thames, in
expectation that it would be carried off by the tide, and would sink. This
agreed to, the head was put into the pail, and Billings took it under his
great-coat, being accompanied by Wood ; but, making a noise in going
down stairs, Mrs. Springate called, and asked what was the matter ? To
this Mrs. Hayes answered that her husband was going a journey ; and,
with incredible dissimulation, affected to take leave of him, pretending
great concern that he was under a necessity of going at so late an hour,
and Wood and Billings passed out of the house unnoticed. They first
went to Whitehall, where they intended to have thrown in tlie head ; but
the gates being shut, they went to a wharf near the Horse Ferry, West-
minster. Billings putting down the pail, Wood threw the head into the
dock, expecting it would have been carried away by the stream ; but at
this time the tide was ebbing, and a lighterman, who was then in his
vessel, heard something fall into the dock, but it was too dark for liim to
distinguish any object. The head being thus disposed of, the murderers
returned home, and were admitted by Mrs. Hayes, without the knowledge
of the other lodgers. The body next became the object of their atten-
tion, and Mrs. Hayes proposed that it should be packed up in a box
and buried. The plan was determined upon immediately, and a box was
purchased, but being found too small, the body was dismembered so as to
admit of its being inclosed in it, and was left until night should favour its
being carried off. The inconvenience of carrying a box was, however,
immediately discovered, and the pieces of the mangled body were therefore
taken out, and, being wrapped up in a blanket, ^^'ere carried by Billings
and Wood to a field in Marylebone, and there tlirown into a pond.
In the meantime the head had been discovered, and the circumstance of
a murder having been committed being undoubted, every means was taken
to secure the discovery of its perpetrators. The magistrates, with this view,
directed that the head should be washed clean, and the hair combed ; after
wliich it was put on a pole in the churchyard of St. Margaret, Westminster,
that an opportunity might be afforded for its being viewed by the public *.
• It was formerly customary to oblige persons suspected of murder to touch the murdcrei'
body, for the discovery of their guilt or innocence.
This way of finding murderers was practised in Denmark by King Cbristianus II., and pei-
68 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
Thousands went to witness this extraordinary spectacle ; and there wero
not wanting tliose among the crowd, who expressed their belief among
tlienisi'lvcs, that the head belonged to Hayes, Their suspicions were men
tioned by some of them to Billings, but he ridiculed the notion, and declarei
that Hayes was well, and was gone out of town only for a few days. When
the head liad been exhibited during four days, it was deemed expedient
that measures should be taken to preserve it ; and ]\Ir. Westbrook, a
chemist, in consequence, received directions to put it into spirits. Mrs.
Hayes soon afterwards changed her lodgings, and took the woman Sprin-
gatc with her, paying the rent which she owed. Wood and Billings also
accompanying her ; and her chief occupation now was that of collecting the
debts due to her husband ; by means of which she continued to supply her
diabolical assistants with money and clothes. Amongst the incredible
numbers of people who resorted to see the head was a poor woman from
Kingsland, whose husband had been absent from the very time that the
murder was perpetrated. After a minute survey of the head, she believed
it to be that of her husband, though she could not be absolutely positive,
but her suspicions were so strong, that strict search was made after
the body, on a presumption that the clothes might help her to ascertain it.
Meanwhile, Mr. Hayes not being visible for a considerable time, his friends
could not help making inquiry after him ; and a Mr. Ashby, in particular,
who had been on the most friendly terms with him, called on Mrs. Hayes,
and demanded what had become of her husband ? Catherine pretended
to account for his absence by communicating the following intelligence,
as a matter that must be kept profoundly secret : — " Some time ago,"
said she, " he happened to have a dispute with a man. and from words
they came to blows, so that Mr. Hayes killed him. The wife of the
deceased made up the atfaii', on ]\Ir. Hayes's promising to pay her a certain
annual allowance ; but he not being able to make it good, she threatened
to inform against him, on which he has absconded." This story was,
Iiowever, by no means satisfactory to Mr. Ashby, who asked her if
tlie head that had been exposed on the pole was that of the man who had
been killed by her husband ? She readily answered in the negative, adding
that the party had been buried entire ; and that the widow had her hus-
band's bond for the payment of fifteen pounds a year. Ashby inquired to
what part of tlie world Mr. Hayes was gone ; and she said to Portugal, in
company with some gentlemen ; but she had yet received no letter from
him. The whole of this detail seeming highly improbable to IMr. Ashby,
niitted over all his kingdom ; the ocrasion whereof was this : — Certain gentlemen being on an
evening together in a stove, or tavern, fell out among themselves, and from words caL:e to
blows, (the candles being out,) insomuch that one of them was stabbed with a poniard. Now
the murderer was unknown, by reason of the number, although the person stabbed accused
pursuivant of the king's, who was one of the company.
The king, to find out the homicide, caused them all to come together in the stove, and,
standing round the corpse, he commanded that they sliould, one after another, lay their right
liand on tlic slam gentleman's naked breast, swearing that they had not killed him. The gen-
tlemen did so, and no sign appeared ag.iinst them; the pursuivant only remained, who, con-
demned before in his own conscience, went, first of all, and kissed the dead man's feet; but,
as soon as he had laid his hand upon his breast, the blood gushed forth in abundance, both out
of his wound and his nostrils ; so that, urged by this evident accusation, he confessed the mur-
der, and was, by the king's own sentence, immediately behe.aded. Such was the origin of this
practice, which was so common in many of the countries in Europe, for finding out imknowc
■murderers.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR, 69
he went to Mr. Longmore, a gentleman nearly related to Hayes ; and it
was agreed between them that Mr. Longmore should call on Catherine,
and have some conversation with her upon the same subject. Iler story
to this gentleman differed in its details from that which she had related to
Mr. Ash by ; and Mr. Eaton, also a friend of Mr. Hayes, being consulted,
ttiey determined first to examine the head, and then, if their suspicions
were confirmed, to communicate their belief to the magistrates. Having
accordingly minutely examined the head, and come to the conclusion that
it must be that of their friend Hayes, they proceeded to Mr. Lambert, a
magistrate, who immediately issued warrants for the apprehension of Mrs.
Hayes and l\Irs. Springate, as well as of Wood and Billings, and proceeded
to execute them personally. Going accordingly to the house in which they
all lived, they informed the landlord of their business, and went imme-
diately to the door of Mrs. Hayes' room. On the magistrate's rapping, the
woman asked, " Who is there ?" and he commanded her to open the door
directly, or it should be broken open. To this she replied, that she
would open it as soon as she had put on her clothes ; and she did so in
little more than a minute, when the justice ordered the parties present to
take her into custody. At this time Billings was sitting on the side of the
bed, bare-legged. Some of the parties remaining below, to secure the pri-
soners, Mr. Longmore went up stairs with the justice, and took Mrs. Sprin-
gate into custody ; and they were all conducted together to the house of
Mr. Lambert. This magistrate having examined the prisoners separately
for a considerable time, and all of them positively persisting in their igno-
rance of anything respecting the murder, they were severally committed
for re- examination on the following day, before Mr. Lambert and othi'i
magistrates. Mrs. Springate was sent to the Gate-house, Billings to New
Prison, and Mrs. Hayes to Tothill-fields Bridewell. When the peace-
officers, attended by Longmore, went the next day to fetch up Catherine
to her examination, she earnestly desired to see the head ; and it being
thought prudent to grant her request, she was carried to the surgeon's ;
and no sooner was the head shown to her than she exclaimed, " Oh, it is
my dear husband's head ! It is my dear husband's head !" She now took
the gliss in her arms, and shed many tears while she embraced it. Mr.
W fstbrook told her that he would take the head out of the glass, that she
might have a more perfect view of it, and be certain that it was the same ;
and the surgeon doing as he had said, she seemed to be greatly affected, and
having kissed it several times, she begged to be indulged with a lock of
the hair ; and on Mr. Westbrook expressing his apprehension that she had
had too much of his Hood already, she fell into a fit. On her recovery she
was conducted to Mr. Lambert's, to take her examination with the other
parties.
It is somewhat remarkable that it was on the morning of this day that
the body was discovered. As a gentleman and his servant were crossing the
fields at jMarylebone, they observed something lying in a ditch, and, on
going nearer to it, they perceived that it was some parts of a human body.
Assistance being procured, the whole of the body was found except the
head ; and information of the circumstance was conveyed to Mr. Lambert
at the very moment at which he was examining the prisoners. The
suspicions which already existed were strengthened by this circumstance,
and Jlrs. Hayes was committed to Newgate for trial ; the committal of
70 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
Billings and INIrs. Springato, however, being deferred until the apprehen-
sion of Wood.
The latter soon after coming into town and riding up to Mrs. Hayes'
lodorinffs, was directed to go to the house of Mr. Longmore, where he was
told he would find Mrs. Hayes ; but the brother of Longmore standing at
the door, he immediately seized him, and caused him to be carried before
]\Ir. Lambert. He underwent an examination ; but, refusing to make
any confession, he was sent to Tothill-fields' Bridewell. On his arrival at
the prison he was informed that the body had been found : and, not
doubting but that the whole aiFair would come to light, he begged that he
m'lcrht be carried back to the justice's house. This being made known to
Mr. Lambert, the prisoner w^as brought up, and he then acknowledged the
particulars of the murder, and signed his confession. This wretched man
owned that since the perpetration of the crime he had been terrified at
the siffht of every one he met, that he had not experienced a moment's
peace, and tliat his mind had been distracted with the most violent agitation.
His commitment to Newgate was immediately made out, and he was
conducted to that prison under the escort of eight soldiers, with fixed
bayonets, whose whole efforts were necessary to protect him from the
violence of the mob. A Mr. IMercer visiting Mrs. Hayes in prison, she
beo-ffed him to go to Billings and urge him to confess the whole truth, as
no advantage, she said, could be expected to arise from a denial of tliat
which was too clearly proved to admit of denial ; and he being carried
before Justice Lambert again, gave an account precisely concurring with
that of Wood. Mrs. Springate, whose innocence was now distinctly
proved, was set at liberty.
At the trial Wood and Billings confessed themselves guilty of the crime
alleged against them ; but 3Irs. Hayes, flattering herself that as she had
said nothing, she had a chance of escape, put herself upon her trial ; but
the jury found her guilty. The prisoners being afterwards brought to the
bar to receive sentence, Mrs. Hayes entreated that she might not be burned,
according to the then law of petty treason, alleging that she was not guilty,
as she did not strike the fatal blow ; but she was informed by the court
that the sentence awarded by the law could not be dispensed with.
After conviction the behaviour of Wood was uncommonly penitent and
devout ; but while in the condemned hold he was seized with a violent
fever, and, being attended by a clergyman to assist him in his devotions,
he said he was ready to suffer death, under every mark of ignominy, as
pome atonement for the atrocious crime he had committed ; but he died in
prison, and thus defeated the final execution of the law. Billings behaved
with apparent sincerity, acknowledging the justice of his sentence, and
saying that no punishment could be commensurate with the crime of which
he had been guilty. The behaviour of Mrs. Hayes was somewhat similar
to her former conduct. Having an intention to destroy herself, she pro-
cured a phial of strong poison, which was casually tasted by a woman who
was confined with her, and her design thereby discovered and frustrated.
On the day of her death she received the sacrament, and was drawn on
a sledge t(j the place of execution. Billings was executed in the usual
manner, and hung in chains, not far from the pond in which ]Mr. Hayes "j
body was found, in IVLiryleboue Fields ; but when the wretched wo.nan
had finished her devotions, in pursuance of her sentence an iron chain was
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 71
pitt round her body, with which slie was fixed to a stake near the gallows.
On these occasions, when women were burned for petty treason, it was
customary to strangle them, by means of a rope passed round the neck,
and pulled by the executioner, so that they were dead before the flames
reached the body. But this woman was literally burned alive ; for the
executioner letting go the rope sooner than usual, in consequence of the
flames reaching his hands, the fire burned fiercely round her, and the
spectators beheld her pushing away the faggots, while she rent the air
with her cries and lamentations. Other faggots were instantly thrown on
her ; but she survived amidst the flames for a considerable time, and her
body was not perfectly reduced to ashes in less than three hours". These
malefactors suffered at Tyburn, May 9, 1726.
MARGARET DIXON.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
The case of this criminal is more remarkable for her resuscitation after
her execution, than for the circumstances attending the offence of which
she was convicted.
The culprit was the daughter of poor parents living at Musselburgh,
about five miles from Edinburgh, a place almost entirely inhabited by
fishermen and persons employed in the manufacture of salt. When she
reached the age of womanhood, she was married, but her husband, who
was a fisherman, being impressed, he was carried off to sea. Deprived of
her lawful protector, she formed an illicit connexion with another man ;
and it was for the murder of the offspring of this acquaintance that she
was eventually sentenced to undergo the severest penalty of the law. It
appears that she was remarked to be pregnant, and was accused by her
neighbours of the fact, but she steadily denied her guilt. At length the
body of a newly-born infant was found near the place of her residence, and
as there was no way of accounting for its existence, except that suggested
by the pregnancy of ]\Irs. Dixon, she was taken into custody, and being
tried was found guilty and ordered for execution.
After her condemnation she behaved in the most penitent manner, con-
fessed that she had been guilty of many sins, and even owned that she had
departed from the line of duty to her husband ; but she constantly and
steadily denied that she had murdered her child, or had even formed an
idea of so horrid a crime. She owned that the fear of being exposed to the
ridicule of her neighbours had tempted her to deny that she was pregnant ;
and she said that, being suddenly seized with the pains of child-birth, she
was unable to procure the assistance of her neighbours ; and that a state
of insensibility ensued, so that it was impossible she should know what
became of the infant.
* Until the thirtieth year of the reign of King George III. this punishment was inflicted on
women convicted of murdering their husbands, wiiich crime was denominated petit-treason. It
has frequently, from some accident happening in strangling the malefactor, produced the horrid
effects above related. In the reign of Mary (the cruel) this death was commonly practised
dpoii the objects of her vengeance ; and many bishops, rather than deny their ith'gious
opmions, were burnt even without previous strangulation. It was high time this part of tie
sentence the type of barbarism, should be dispensed with. The punishment now inflicted for
this Dioei unnatural and abhorred crime is hanging.
72 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR
At the place of execution she persisted in lier protestations of innocenpe,
and Jack Ketcli having performed his office, the body Imng the usual time,
and was then cut down and delivered to the friends of the deceased. By
them it was put into a coffin, and sent in a cart to be buried at her
native place ; but the weather being sultry, the persons who had it in their
care stopped to drink at a village called Peppermill, about two miles from
Edinburgh. While they were refreshing themselves, one of them perceived
the lid of the coffin move, and uncovering it, the woman sat upright,
to the infinite alarm of the spectators. The mystery being soon explained ;
a fellow, who was present, had sufficient sagacity to bleed her ; and in the
course of the ensuing day she was sufficiently recovered to be able to walk
home to her old residence at jMusselburgh.
By the Scottish law, not only was she released by the execution from
the consequences of tlie crime of which she had been found guilty, but from
the bonds of matrimony also ; but her husband having by this time
returned from sea, he was publicly re-married to his old wife, within a few
days after she had been hanged. A suit was subsequently brought by the
Lord Advocate against the sheriff for omitting to perform his office ; but
as it turned out that the escape of the convict was not owing to any neglect
on his part, but to some peculiar formation of the neck of the woman, the
prosecution was abandoned.
The date of this transaction was the month of November, 1728 ; and the
subject of this most remarkable escape was living in the year 1753, when
it is due to lier to state that she still persisted in her declarations of
innocence.
JOHN GOW AND OTHERS.
EXECUTED FOR PIRACY.
The principal in this list of offenders was named Jonn Gow, and was a
native of one of the Orkney Islands. Having chosen a seafaring life, he
was appointed second mate of a vessel going to Santa Cruz. Some com-
plaints having been made before the vessel quitted port, of the insufficiency
of the provisions given to the men, the captain took little notice of them ;
and it was not until he had quitted the sliore some days, that he learned,
too late, the mistake of which he had been guilty. The feelings of discon-
tent which had been already exhibited were soon fanned into a flame,
and at length it became necessary for the captain, chief mate, and surgeon
to arm the^mselves. Gow, whose duties as second mate also inchided those
of gunner, was ordered to clean the small-arms necessary for this purpose ;
but being a party to a conspiracy, which existed among his shipmates to
seize the vessel, he communicated the order to his fellows, and it was
determined to put their project into execution forthwith. Between nine
and ten o'clock at night, the signal was given, and the conspirators going
to the cabins of the chief mate, surgeon, and supercargo, cut their throat?
while tiiey were asleep. The captain ran on deck to acertain the cause of
a noise which he heard, and was immediately seized, and, although he
made a desperate resistance, was despatched in as sliort a time as his unfor-
tunate brother officers had been. The bodies of the murdered men wer^
then thrown overboard, and Gow was selected as the new captain. Agscm
THE NEW NEWOATK CALENDAR. 7^
bling liis associates on deck, their determination to commence pirates was
soon formed ; and some of the seamen wlio had hesitated to become parties
to the diabolical murders of their officers, were forced to join tlio crew in
their piratical proceedings on pain of death. A fellow named Williams,
of a most brutal disposition, was chosen as lieutenant; and the name of the
vessel, which had been the George Galley, was changed to the more bloody
one of Revenge. Having mounted several guns, they steered towards
Spain and Poi'tugal, in expectation of making a capture of wine, in a supply
of which they were greatly deficient. They soon made prize of an English
vessel laden with fish, bound from Newfoundland to Cadiz ; but having no
use for the cargo, they took out the captain and four men, and sunk the
ship.
One of the seamen whom they took from the captured vessel was
named James Belvin, a man admirably calculated for tlieir purpose, as he
was by nature cruel, and by practice hardened in that cruelty ; and being
willing to turn pirate, he was thought a valuable acquisition to the crew,
as several of the others appeared to act from motives of fear rather than of
inclination.
The next vessel taken by the pirates was a Scotch ship bound to Italy
with pickled herrings ; but this cargo, like the former, being of no use to
them, they sunk the vessel, having first taken out the men, arms, ammu-
nition, and stores.
After having cruised about for a considerable time without any further
successes, their supply of water ran so short, that they felt it absolutely
necessary to procure a fresh stock. They sailed, therefore, to a Portuguese
settlement ; and, on their arrival, they sent some presents to the governor,
intimating their wants. The governor treating the messengers with civility,
proceeded on board the vessel, and he was there received by the pirates
with every mark of respect and attention. The boat, which had been sent
for supplies, however, not returning, the captain began to suspect that his
men were not safe, and threatened to murder his visitors unless his demands
were complied with. The governor was terrified at this threat ; but soon
procured his liberty by assenting to the wishes of his entertainer. They
afterwards made several prizes, in one of which they sent away the Scotch
captain and his crew ; but shortly afterwards meeting with a French
vessel of superior power, the captain refused to give chase to or to engage
it. Williams, the lieutenant, upbraided him for what he termed his
cowardice, and a violent quarrel taking place, the lieutenant endeavoured
to shoot his captain. The crew agreeing in opinion with the latter as to
the impropriety of fighting against a force so superior to their own, Wil-
liams was soon secured, and placed among the other prisoners. The French
vessel was permitted to continue on her way ; and soon afterwards meet-
ing with a ship bound for Bristol, they robbed her of her stores and
ammunition, and putting their prisoners and Williams on board of her,
the latter of whom they directed to be given up to the British authorities,
they allowed her to proceed on her voyage.
As soon as she had left them, Gow and his crew began to reflect on their
situation. They were apprehensive that as soon as intelligence of their
proceedings reached Portugal, some ships would be sent in pursuit of them;
and they called a kind of council, in which every one gave his opinion.
Gow proposed to sail to the Isles of Orkney, on the north of Scotland,
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
where he said, they might dispose of their effects, and retire and live on
the produce ; and in order to induce his people to comply with this pro-
posal, he represented that they were much in want of water, and provi-
sions of every kind ; that their danger would be great if they continued
longer on the high seas ; and, above all, that it was highly necessary for
them to repair their ship, which they could not do with any degree of safety
in a southern port.
Convinced by these arguments, they proceeded northwards, and soon
reached the Orkney Islands ; and entering one of the bays there they pro-
ceeded, as well as they were able, to refit the ship. This step was, however,
fatal to their enterprise ; for one of their companions, who had unwillingly
joined in the piratical proceedings of the crew, escaped, and gave informa-
tion of all that had occurred. Ten others followed his example, and seized
the long-boat; but reaching Edinburgh, they were confined on suspicion of
being pirates.
Xotwithstandincr these alarming circumstances, Gow was so careless of
his own safety, that he did not put immediately to sea, but resolved to
plunder the houses of the gentlemen on the coast, to furnish himself with
fresh provisions.
In pursuance of this resolution, he sent his boatswain and ten armed men
to the house of Mr. Honeyman, high-sherift' of the county ; and the master
beino- absent, the servants opened the door without suspicion. Nine of the
o-anor went into the house to search for treasure, while tlie tenth was left to
onard the door. Mrs. Honeyman, running to the door, saw the man who
stood guard there, whom she asked what could be the meaning of the
outrage ; to which he replied, that they were pirates, and had come thither
only to ransack the house. Recollecting that she had a considerable quan-
tity of gold in a bag, she returned and put it in her lap, and ran by the
man at the door, who had no idea but that the wish to preserve her life
occasioned her haste. The boatswain missing this part of the expected
treasure, declared that he would destroy the family writings ; but this being
overheard by Miss Honeyman, she threw the writings out of the window,
and, jumping out after them, escaped unhurt and carried them off. In the
interim the pirates seized the linen, plate, and other valuable articles, and
then walked in triumph to their boat, compelling one of the servants to
play before them on the bagpipes. They afterwards carried off two
women whom they met ; and detaining them on board during two days,
so ill-treated them, that one expired soon after they had put them on
shore.
This atrocious offence was no sooner committed than they sailed to Calf-
Sound, with an intention of robbing the house of Mr. Fea, who had been
an old school-fellow with Grow. This house was the rather pitched upon.
as Gow supposed that Mr. Fea could not have yet heard of the transactions
at Mr. Honeyman's ; but in this he was mistaken, although Fea could not
oppose him, on account of the indisposition of his wife.
Mr. Fea's house was situated near the sea-shore ; he had only six servants
at liome when the pirates appeared off the coast ; and these were by no
means equal to sustain a contest. It may not be improper to remark, that
the tide runs so higli among these islands, and beats with such force against
the rocks, that the navigation is frequently attended with great danger.
Gow who had not boats to assist him in an emergency, and was unskilled
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAK 75
in the navigation of these seas, made a bhinder in turning into tlie hav of
Calf-Sound; for, standing too near the point of a small island called the
Calf, the vessel was in the utmost danger of being run on shore. Havinor
cast his anchor too near the shore, so that the wind could not bring him otf",
he sent a boat with a letter to Mr. Fea, requesting that he would lend him
another boat, to assist him in heaving off the ship, by carrying out an
anchor ; and assuring him that he would not do the least injury to any
individual.
As Gow's messenger did not see Mr. Fea's boat, the latter gave him an
evasive answer ; and on the approach of night ordered his servants to sink
his own boat, and hide the sails and rigging. While they were obeying this
order five of the pirates came on shore in the boat, and proceeded, doubly
armed, towards the house. Mr. Fea advanced towards them with an
assurance of friendship, and begged they would not enter the house, for that
his wife was exceedingly ill ; and the sight of them might probably deprive
her of life. The boatswain replied that they had no design to terrify Mrs.
Fea, or any other person ; but tha,t the most rigorous treatment must be
expected if the use of the boat was denied them. Mr. Fea represented how
dangerous it would be for him to assist them, on account of the reports
circulated to their discredit ; but he offered to entertain them at an adja-
cent ale-house ; and they accepted the invitation, as they observed that he
had no company. In the mean while, Mr. Fea ordered his servants to call
him hastily out of the company ; and these orders being exactly complied
with, when he had left the pirates, he directed six men, well armed, to sta-
tion themselves behind a hedge ; and that if they observed him to come alone
with the boatswain, instantly to seize his companion ; but if he came with
a;ll the five desperadoes, he would walk forward, so as to give them an
opportunity of firing at them without their wounding him
He then returned to the company, whom he invited to his house, on the
promise of their behaving peaceably, and said he would make them heartily
welcome. They expressed a readiness to attend him, in the hope of
getting the boat ; but he told them he would rather have the boatswain's
company first, and would afterwards send for his companions.
This being agreed to, the boatswain set forward with two brace of pistols,
and walking with j\Ir. Fea till they came to the hedge where the men were
concealed, that gentleman seized him by the collar, while the others took
him into custody before he had time to make any defence. The boatswain
called aloud for his men ; but Mr. Fea forcing a handkerchief into his mouth,
bound him hand and foot, and then left one of his own people to guard
him, while he and the rest wtnt back to the public-house.
There being two doors to the house, they went some to the one, and some
to the other ; and rushing in at once made prisoners of the other four men
before they had time to have recourse to their arms for defence. The pirates
being thus in custodj^, were sent to an adjacent village, and separately con-
fined ; and in the interim IVIr. Fea sent messengers round the island to
acquaint the inhabitants with what had been done ; to desire them to haul
their boats on the beach, that the pirates should not swim to and steal them ;
and to request that no person would venture to row within reach of the
pirates' guns
The vessel now got into a position of still greater difficulty, and in order
to get it out to sea some assistance was absolutely requisite. Gow's
greatest efforts were therefore made to induce Mr. Fea to render him some
76 THK NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
•aid ; and the latter, by holding out promises of assistance, eventually suc-
ceeded in getting the whole of the piratical crew on shore, and in securing
them. They were subsequently conveyed to London, where, on their
being examined, five of them were admitted as witnesses, while the rest
were committed for trial, along with their old associate Williams, who
liad been conveyed to England by the master of the Bristol ship. Gow,
"Williams, and six others, were convicted and received sentence of death ;
while the remainder, wlio appeared to have been the victims, rather than
the companions of the others, escaped.
The behaviour of Gow from his first commitment was reserved and
morose. He considered himself as an assured victim to the justice of the
laws, nor entertained any hope of being admitted an evidence, as ]Mr. Fea
had hinted to him that he might be. When brought to trial he refused to
plead, in consequence of which he was sentenced to be pressed to death in
the usual manner. When the officer, however, was about to inflict this
punishment, lie begged to be taken back to the bar, and having there
pleaded Not Guilty, he was convicted on the same evidence as his accom-
plices.
Gow, Williams, and six others, were hanged at Execution Dock, on the
11th of August, 1729.
COLONEL FRANCIS CHARTERIS.
COXVICTED OF RAPE.
The name of Charteris will long be remembered with loathing and
detestation, as having belonged to a villain, whose profligacy, at the time
at which he lived, rendered him an oliject of universal disgust and hatred.
The execrable subject of this narrative was born at Amisfield, in Scotland,
where he was heir to an estate which his ancestors had possessed above
four hundred years. He was related to many of the first families among
the nobility of the north ; and having received a liberal education, he
selected the profession of arms, as that of which he desired to become a
member. He served first under the Duke of Marlborough, when he suc-
cessively held the ranks of ensign in a foot regiment, and cornet of
dragoons ; but being a most expert gamester, and of a disposition uncom-
monly avaricious, he made his knowledge of gambling subservient to his
love of money ; and while the army was in winter-quarters, he stripped
many of his brother-ofiicers of all their property by his skill at cards and dice.
His villany, however, did not end there, for when he had defrauded his
companions of all they possessed, be w^ould lend them their own money
back, at a usurious rate of interest, taking an assignment of their conmiis-
sions as security for the payment of the debts.
John Duke of Argyle and the Earl of Stair were at this time young
men in the army ; and being determined that the inconsiderate ofticers
should not be thus ruined by the artifices of Cliarteris, they applied to the
Earl of Orkney, who was also in the army then quartered at Brussels,
representing the destruction tliat must ensue to young men serving in the
army, if Charteris were permitted to continue the line of conduct which
he had adopted unchecked.
The Earl of Orkney, anxious for the credit of the army in general, and
his countrymen in particular, represented the state of the case to the l^uko
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 77
of Marlborough, who gave orders tliat Charteris should be put under
arrest ami tried by court-martial. The court was composed of an equal
number of English and Scotch officers, in order that the accused mio-ht
have no reason to complain of his trial ; and after a full hearing of all the
circumstances against him, he was sentenced to return the money which he
liad obtained by his guilty artifices, to be deprived of his commission, an/
liis sword having been broken, to be drummed out of the regiment.
This sentence having been carried out to its fullest extent, the degraded
<}fficer returned to Scotland ; but there, by means of the most servile sub-
mission and the use of the money which he possessed, he procured for him-
self a new commission in a regiment of horse, in which he was eventually
advanced to the rank of colonel.
The lesson which he had received, one would have thought would have
been sufficient to deter him from a renewal of those artifices in the employ-
ment of which he had been detected ; but every day served to furnish him
with new victims among the young men of rank and fashion, to whom, by
his standing in the army, he contrived to procure introductions. Nor was
his character infamous only on account of the dishonesty of his proceedings,
but he soon obtained an unenviable notoriety on account of the unprinci-
pled boldness with which he conducted his libidinous amours. Agents
were employed, whose duty it was to procure new subjects for the horrid
desires of their master, and the most extraordinary and unhallowed devices
were employed by them to secure the object which they had in view.
Public disgust was excited in the highest degree by the open daring with
which these proceedings were carried on, and at length the name and cha-
racter of this abominable libertine became so notorious as to render him
the object of universal detestation and disgust.
Among other unfortunate young women who fell into the hands of this
villain, was one whose name was Anne Bond. She was a girl of respect-
able connexions, and being in search of employment as a servant, her bad
fortune threw her into the way of the agents of Charteris. She was pos-
sessed of considerable personal attractions, and she was employed under a
representation that her master was a Colonel Harvey. A few days, how-
ever, served to inform her of the name of the person into whose hands she
had fallen. Her master professed to behave towards her with great kind-
ness and consideration ; but within a week after she had entered his em-
])loyment, he made to her a proposition of a most disgusting nature. She
repelled the foul temptation, and her fears being alarmed by the circum-
stance, she was confirmed in a determination, at which she had nearly
arrived, to quit the service in which she was employed, by hearing on the
following day that her master was no other than the Colonel Charteris of
whose character she, in common with the world, had heard so much. She
therefore immediately acquainted the housekeeper with her intention to
leave the house ; but the colonel having been informed of the circumstance,
be behaved towards her with great violence, and threatened that if she
dared to run away, he would shoot her. He then ordered the other ser-
vants to take care that she did not escape, and on the following day pro-
ceeded to the accomplishment of the design by force, in which he had failed
to succeed by stratagem. He ordered her to be sent into the parlour by
the clerk of the kitchen, and then desiring her to stir the fire, he threw her
down, and having stopped her mouth witii his nightcap, he completed an
offence which subjected him to capital punishment. The girl, on recovering
78 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
her position, threatened to prosecute him, and then lie beat her most un-
mercifully with a horsewhip, and calling the clerk of the kitchen, bid liim
turn her out of doors, alleging that she had robbed him of thirty guineas.
His orders having been directly obeyed, the girl proceeded forthwith to
prefer an indictment for the assault which had been committed ; but the
Grand Jury finding that the colonel had, in reality, been guilty of a capital
oftence, they at once returned a true bill on that charge.
Colonel Charteris was immediately taken into custody for the crime
alleged against him and lodged in Newgate, where he was loaded with
heavy fetters ; but having, through the instrumentality of his friends, pro-
cured a writ of habeas corpus, he was admitted to bail.
The trial took place at the Old Bailey on the 25th of February, 1730,
when every effort was used to traduce the character of the prosecutrix, with
a view to destroy the force of her evidence ; but, happily, her character
was so fair, and there was so little reason to think that she had any sinister
view in the prosecution, that every artifice failed, and, after a long trial,
in which the facts were proved to the satisfaction of the jury, a verdict of
ffuilty was returned, and the Colonel received sentence to be executed in
the customary form. The same interest which had before been employed
on behalf of this villain was now again made use of; and upon tlie settle-
ment of a handsome annuity upon the prosecutrix, he received a pardon
from the King. He soon found, however, that London was no longer a
place in which he could appear, unless to be pointed at with the finger of
scorn ; and he retired to Edinburgh, where, after a lapse of two years, he
died in a miserable manner, the victim of his own dissolute and hateful
passions.
His vices were so notorious, that it was not without great difficulty that
his body was committed to the grave. The place appointed for the reception
of his remains was the family vault in the church of the Greyfriars in
Edinburgh ; but the mob having assembled, they made a violent effort to
obtain possession of his coffin, with a vievv to tear it and its contents to
pieces, and committed a variety of other irregularities, in honest contempt
of the detestable character which he bore. At the time of his death, he
was possessed of very large estates in England and Scotland, the produce
of many usurious transactions, to which he was a party during the latter
portion of his life. He was married to the daughter of Sir Alexander
Swinton, of Scotland, by whom he had one daughter, who was afterwards
united to the Earl of Wemyss.
Soon after Charteris was convicted, a fine mezzotinto print of him was
published, representing him standing at the bar of the Old Bailey with
his thumbs tied ; at the bottom of which was the following inscription :
Blood ! must. .i colonel, \^nth a lord's estate.
Be thus obnoxious to a scoundrel's fate ?
Brought to the bar, and sentenced from the bench,
Only for ravishing a country wench?
Shall men of honour meet no more respect ?
Shall their diversions thus by laws be check'd ?
Shall they be accountable to saucy juries
For this or t' other pleasure ? — hell and furies I
AVhat man througli villany would run a course.
And ruin families without remorse,
To heap up riches — if, when all is done,
An ignominious death he cannot shun?
A most severe but just description of the character of Cliarterls was
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 79
afterwards written by Dr. Arbiithnot, who published it in the form of an
epitaph, as follows : —
HERE LIETH THE BODY OF
COLONEL DON FRANCISCO,
WHO, WITH AN
INFLEXIBLE CONSTANCY,
AND INIMITABLE UNIFORMITY
OF LIFE, PERSISTED, IN SPITE OF
AGE AND INFIRMITY, IN THE PRACTICE OF
EVERY HUMAN VICE, EXCEPTING PRODIGALITY
AND HYPOCRISY ; KIS INSATIABLE AVARICE EXEMPTING
HIM FROM THE FIRST, AND HIS MATCHLESS IMPUDENCE FROM
THE LATTER. NOR WAS HE MORE SINGULAR IN THAT UNDEVIATING
VICIOUSNESS OF LIFE THAN SUCCESSFUL IN ACCUMULATING WEALTH,
HAVING, WITHOUT TRUST OF PUBLIC MONEY, BRIBE, WORTH, SERVICE,
TUADE, OR PROFESSION, ACQUIRED, OR RATHER CREATED, A MINISTERIAL ESTATE,
AMONG THE SINGULARITIES OF HIS LIFE AND FORTUNE, BE IT LIKEWISE
COMMEMORATED, THAT HE WAS THE ONLY PERSON IN HIS TIME
WHO WOULD CHEAT WITHOUT THE MASK OF HONESTY ;
WHO WOULD RETAIN HIS PRIMEVAL MEANNESS, AFTER
BEING POSSESSED OF 10,000 POUNDS A YEAR;
AND WHO, HAVING DONE EVERY DAY OF
HIS LIFE SOMETHING WORTHY OF
A GIBBET, WAS ONCE CONDEMNED
TO ONE FOR WHAT HE
HAD NOT DONE.
THINK NOT, INDIGNANT READER, HIS LIFE USELESS TO MANKIND.
PROVIDENCE FAVOURED, OR RATHER CONNIVED AT, HIS
EXECRABLE DESIGNS, THAT HE MIGHT REMAIN, TO THIS
AND FUTURE AGES, A CONSPICUOUS PROOF AND
EXAMPLE OF lldW SMALL ESTIMAIION
EXORBITANT WEALTH IS HELD IN
THE SIGHT OF THE ALMIGHTY,
BY HIS BESTOWING IT ON
THE MOST UNWORTHY OF ALL THE DESCENDANTS OF ADAM.
SARAH MALCOLM.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
Tins unhappy young woman, who at the period of her death was only
twenty-two years of age, was born of respectable parents, in the county
of Durham, in the year 1711 ; but her father having, through his extra-
vagance, spent the whole of the projierty which he possessed, she was at
length compelled to resort to what is commonly called " servitude," for
the means of sub-' jtence. In this condition for several years she con-
ducted herself extremely well ; but at length being employed at the Black
Horse, a low public -house in Boswell-court, near Temple-bar, which up
to the present day has been constantly the notorious resort of persons of
bad character, she formed ccimexions of no very creditable class, by whom
she was led on to her ruin. Having at lengtli quitted the Black Horse,
she was recommended as a laundress to take charge of chambers in the
Inns of Court ; and amongst those for whom she there worked, was a Mrs.
Lydia Duncomb, a lady nearly eighty years of age, who occupied a set
of chambers in the Temple ; Elizabeth Harrison, aged sixty, and Ann
Price, aged seventeen, living with her in the capacity of servants. Tiiis
80^ TUE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
lady being reputed to be very rich, a scheme was formed by Sarali Malcolm
of robbing her chambers ; her object being, it was supposed, by the
acquisition of wealth, to make herself a fitting match for a young man
named Alexander, who she hoped would marry her.
The night of Saturday, Sd February, 1783, was fixed upon by her for
the commission of the robbery ; and Martha Tracy, a woman of light
character, her paramour Alexander, and his brother, were to be her
assistants in the execution of the project. Malcolm, by means of her
acquaintance with the chambers, obtained possession of the keys of tiie
outer door in the course of tlie day, and at night the lobbery was eftected,
but with it the murder also of ^Nlrs. Duncomb and her servants Harrison
and Price. On the Sunday morning some surprise was excited on its
being observed that none of ]Mrs. Duncomb's family were to be seen ; and
at length, as the day advanced, great alarm was exhibited, and suspicions
were entertained that all was not right. ]\irs. Love, 31rs. Rhymer, and
Mrs. Oliphant, friends of Mrs. Duncomb, assembled in tlie afternoon at
the door of her chambers, in obedience to an invitation which they had
received to dinner; but being unable to gain admittance by knocking, they
at length determined to force an entrance. One of the windows was
resorted to for this purpose, to which access was obtained from a neigh-
bouring set of chambers ; and then, on Mrs. Oliphant gomg into Mrs.
Duncomb's bed-room, the old lady was found there strangled, while her
servant Harrison was discovered in an adjoining apartment also strangled,
and the girl Price was seen lying on her bed with her throat cut from ear
to ear. The news of this diabolical crime soon became published through
the neighbourhood ; and the chambers of the deceased being examined, it
was found that they had been stripped of all the valuables which could
be easily carried away, consisting of money, silver plate, and other articles
of a similar description. In the course of the day some circumstances
transpired, tending to fix the suspicions of the police upon the woman
Malcolm ; and upon her lodgings being searched, a silver tankard, the
handle of which was covei'ed with blood, was found concealed in a close-
stool. She was in consequence taken into custody, and having undergone
an examination on the following day before the magistrates, she was
committed to Newgate. Upon lier entering the jail, she was searched by
Johnson, one of the turnkeys, who took from her a considerable sum of
money in gold and silver coin, and she admitted to him that it was Mrs.
Duncomb's. " But," added she, " I '11 make you a present of it if you
will say nothing of the matter." The jailer took possession of the money,
but produced it to his superior officers, acquainting them with the con-
versation which had passed. In the course of the subsequent imprison-
ment of the unhappy woman, she frequently conversed with Johnson upon
the subject of the murder, and admitted that she had arranged the robbery,
although she declared that she had had nothing to do with putting Mrs.
Duncomb and her servants to death. She asserted that two men and a
woman were concerned with her, and that she watched on the stairs while
they entered the chambers.
At her trial, when called on for her defence, she made a similar declara-
tion, and stated that Tracy and the two Alexanders were her companions ;
but she still persisted in her allegation of her ignorance of the murder,
until its being discovered by Mrs. Oliphant on the day after it was
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 8]
committed. A verdict of guilty was, however, returned, and the wretched
woman was ordered for execution.
After lier conviction she evinced the most sincere penitence, but still
persisted in her refusal to confess herself guilty of the whole crime with
which, she was charged. Upon the bellman* coming to lier in the
customary manner, slie attended anxiously to what he said, and at tht-
conchision of his address threw him a shilling to buy wine.
On the morning of execution, IMarch 7, 1733, she appeared more com-
]iosed than she had been for some time past, and seemed to join in prayers
with the Ordinary, and another gentleman who attended, with much
sincerity. "NVhen in the cart, she wrung her hands and wept most bitterly.
At the ])lace of execution, near Fetter-lane, she behaved with the utmost
devoutness and resignation to the Divine will ; but when the Ordinary, in
his prayers, recommended her soul to God, she fainted, and with much
difficulty recovered her senses. On the cart driving off, she turned
towards the Temple, crying out, " Oh ! my mistress, my mistress ! I
wish I could see her !" and then, casting her eyes towards heaven, called
upon Christ to receive her soul.
CAPTAIN JOHN PORTEOUS.
CONVICTED OF MURDER, AND MURDERED BY THE MOB.
The case of this offender has attracted considerable attention, from the
scene of his death being described with accurate fidelity in Sir "Walter
Scott's novel of " The Heart of Mid-Lothian."
John Porteous was born of indigent parents near the cityof Edinburgn ; and
he served his time as an apprentice to a tailor. Having worked at his trade
for some time, he was married to the cast mistress of the late Lord Provost
* It has been a very ancient practice, on the night preceding the execution of condemned
criminals, for the bellman of the parish of St. Sepulchre to go under Newgate, and, ringing
his bell, CO repeat the following verses, as a piece of friendly advice, to the unhappy wretches
under sentence of death : —
All you that in the condcmn'd hole do lie,
Prepare you, for to-morrow you shall die.
Watch all, and pray, the hour is drawing near.
That you before the Almighty must appear;
Examine well yourselves, in time repent,
That 3'ou may not t' eternal flames be sent.
And when St. Sepulchre's bell to-monow tolls.
The Lord above have mercy on your souls !
Past twelve o'clock!
The following extract from Stow's Survey of London, page 125 of tlie quarto edition, printed
in 1618, will prove that the above verses ought to be repeated by a clergyman, instead of a
bellman : — " Robert Doue, citizen and merchant taylor, of London, gaue to the parish church
of St. Sepulchres the somme of 50^. That after the seueral sessions of London, when the
prisoners remain in the gaole, as condemned men to death, expecting execution on the morrow
following; the clarkc (that is, the parson) of the church shoold come in the night time, and
likewise early in the morning, to the window of the prison where they lye, and there rinsing
certain toles with a hand-bell, appointed for the purpose, he doth afterwards (in most Christian
manner) put them in mind of their present condition, and ensuing execution, desiring them to
be prepared therefore as they ought to be. When they are in the cart and brought before the
wall of the church, there he standeth ready with the same bell, and after certain tolo
rehearseth an appointed praier, desiring all the people there present to pray for them. Tli«
Hejxdle also of Merchant Taylors' Hall hath an honest stipend allowed to see that thia is
duely done.''
h. J IS
82 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR,
of Edinburgh, who settled upon tliem a sum of 500/. ; but our hero, being
a man addicted to the pursuit of pleasure, soon ran through his momy, and
his wife was in consequence obliged to apply to her old friend, the provost,
to make some other provision for them. In Edinburgh there were three
companies of men, in number twenty-five each, who were employed to keep
the peace, and perform the general duties of a police force. An officer was
appointed to each of these companies (whom they styled captain) with a
salary of eighty pounds a year, and a suit of scarlet uniform ; and a
vacancy happening by the dfcath of one of these captains, the provost
immediately appointed Porteous to fill up the place. The latter soon dis-
tinguished himself by a show of great daring ; and if a riot occurred in the
city, he was generally chosen by the magistrates to suppress it. On
these occasions, however, he would frequently behave with great violence
and cruelty, so that he failed in obtaining that respect and attention which
were so peculiarly necessary for a person in his situation.
The circumstances attending the condemnation and death of Porteous
were as follows : — Two fellows named Wilson and Robertson, who were
daring smugglers, having been found guilty of a very serious breach of the
revenue laws, were sentenced to die ; and a strong feeling existing in their
favour among the people, it was apprehended that it was very possible that
an attempt might be made to rescue them from custody, Robertson, how-
ever, made his escape before the period arrived for his execution, by taking
advantage of an opportunity afforded, by a custom which then prevailed, of
taking the condemned criminals to church under the care of the city
guards ; and although Porteous was instantly despatched in search of him,
liis inquiries were in vain, and the criminal afterwards made good his flight
to Holland, On the following Wednesday th.e execution of "\A'ilson was
appointed to take place, and a temporary gallows was erected in the Grass-
market, the prisoner being ordered to be conducted there by fifty men,
imder the command of Porteous, Upon the representations of the latter,
five companies of theAVelch Fusileers were ordered to be in readiness in the
Lawn-market to prevent any sudden outbreak ; but no disturbance arising,
the prisoner finished his devotions, ascended the ladder, and after having been
turned oft", continued hanging the usual time. The hangman then went up
the ladder to cut him down ; but a stone struck him on the nose, and caused
it to bleed. This stone was immediately followed by many others ; at which
Porteous was so much exasperated, that he instantly called out to his men,
" Fire, and be d d!" discharging his own piece at the same time, and
shooting a young man, who was apprentice to a confectioner, dead on the
spot. JSome of the soldiers more humanely fired over the heads of the
people, but unfortunately killed two or three persons who were looking out
at the windows ; while others of them wantonly fired amongst the feet of
the mob, by which many were so disabled as to be afterwards obliged to
suffer amputation. Porteous now endeavoured to draw off his men, as the
mob grew exceedingly outrageous, throwing stones, and continuing tc
press on the soldiers ; but having gone some distance, he turned about
with two of his men and fired, killing three more of the people,
Porteous, being assisted by tlie Fusileers, at last conducted his men U
the guard ; when being sent for by the provost, he passed a long examina-
tion, and was committed lo prison in order to take his trial for murder.
On the Lth of July, 17 '36, the trial came on before the lords of justiciary
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 83
previously to which Porteous made a judicial confession, that the people
were killed as mentioned in the indictment, but pleaded self-defence.
His counsel then stated the following point of law, to be determined by the
judges previously to the jury being charged with the prisoner : —
"■ Whether a military officer, with soldiers under his command, who,
being assaulted by the populace, should fire, or ord(T his men to fire, was
not acting consistently with the nature of self-defence, according to the laws
of civilised nations ? "
The counsel for the prosecution being ordered to plead to the question,
the court pronounced as their opinion, '' That if it was proved that Captain
Porteous either fired a gun, or caused one or more to be fired, by which any
jierson or persons was or were killed, and if the said firing happened with-
out orders from a magistrate properly authorised, then it would be murder
in the eye of the law."
Thus the question being decided against him and the jury empanelled,
forty-four witnesses were examined for and against the prosecution.
The prisoner being then called on for his defence, his counsel insisted
that the magistrates had ordered him to support the execution of Wilson,
and repel force by force; and that being apprehensive of a rescue, powder
and ball had been given to his men for the said purpose, with orders to
load their pieces. They said, also, that he only meant to intimidate the
people by threats, and actually knocked down one of his own men for pre-
senting his piece ; that finding the men would not obey orders, he drew off'
as many as he could ; that he afterwards heard a firing in the rear contrary
to his directions ; that in order to know who had fired, he would not
suffer their pieces to be cleaned till properly inspected ; and that he never
attempted to abscond, though he had the greatest opportunity, and might
have effected his escape with the utmost ease. They farther insisted,
that, admitting some excesses had been committed, it could not amount
to murdei', as he was in the lawful discharge of his duty ; neither could it
be supposed to be done with premeditated malice.
In answer to this the counsel for the crown argued, that the trust reposed
in the prisoner ceased when the execution was over ; that he was tlien no
longer an officer employed for that purpose for which the fire-arms had
been loaded ; and that tlie reading of the Riot Act only could justify his
firing in case a rescue had been actually attempted.
The prisoner's counsel replied, that the magistrates, whose duty it was
to have read the Act, had deserted the soldiery, and taken refuge in a house
for their own security ; and that it was hard for men to suffer themselves
to be knocked on the head, when they had lawful weapons in their hands.
The jury having been charged, after sometime occupied in consideration,
found the prisoner guilty, and he was sentenced to death ; but the King
being then at Hanover, the Queen, by advice of her council, granted a
respite to the prisoner. The subsequent execution of the sentence was
prevented by the measures taken by the mob, by whom a scheme of revenge
such perhaps as is unprecedented, was planned and carried out.
On the 7th of September, between nine and ten o'clock in the evening, a
large body of men entered the city, and seized the arms belonging to the
guard ; they then patrolled the streets, crying out, " All those who dare
revenge innocent blood, let them come here ;" and they closed the gates,
and placed guards at each, so as to prevent ingress or egress.
84
THE ^■EW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
The main body of the mob, all disguised, marched in the mean time to
die prison ; when finding some diflficulty in breaking open the door with
iammcrs, they immediately set fire to it, taking great care that the flames
should not extend beyond their proper bounds. The outer door was
hardly consumed before they rushed in, and ordering the keeper to open
the door of the captain's apartment, cried out, " Where is the villain
Porteous ? ' lie replied, " Here I am ; what do you want with me ?"
To which they answered, that they meant to hang him in the Grass-
market, the i^lace where he had shed so much innocent blood. His expos-
tulations w^ere all in vain ; they seized him by the legs and arms, and
dragged him instantly to the place of execution. On their arrival they
broke open a shop to find a rope suitable to their purpose, which they
immediately fixed round his neck ; and then, throwing the other end over a
dyer's pole, they hoisted liim up. He endeavoured to save himself, and fixed
his hands between the halter and his neck ; but this being observed by
some of the mob, one of them struck him with an axe, and this obliging
him to quit his hold, tliey soon put an end to his life.
When they were satisfied that he was dead, they immediately dispersed
to their several habitations, unmolested themselves, and without molesting
any one else.
Upon this circumstance being made known, a royal proclamation was
issued, oft't ring a large reward for the apprehension of the offenders ; and
the magistrates of Edinburgh were summoned to answer for their neglect
in not quelling the riot, were fined, and rendered incapable of acting again
in any judicial capacity. The circumstance of the death of Porteous, how-
ever, appeared to have aflbrded the people so much satisfaction, that
no further attempt was made to discover the leaders of the fray.
JOHN RICHARDSON AND RICHARD COYLE.
EXECUTED FOR PIRACY AND MURDER.
The adventures of the first-named of these criminals exhibit him to be
a man possessing the most consummate hypocrisy, and a disposition of tne
very worst description.
John Richardson was a native of New York in America, where, at the
age of fourteen years, he entered on board a vessel commanded by his uncle.
After a single voyage, he took a dislike to the sea, and, loath again to trust
himself upon salt water, he procured an engagement in the service of a
carpenter, by whom he was employed for five years, when an intimacy
having commenced with his master's daughter which was likely to produce
unpleasant consequences, he ran off, and once again selected the sea a3
the scene of his future exploits. The vessel on board which he entered was
bound for Jamaica, and tliere our hero was pressed and put on board a man-
of-war, by which he was carried to England. He subsequently attained the
rank of boatswain on board a vessel trading to the Baltic ; but having, by
means of a forged letter, obtained the sum of one hundred rix-dollars from
a, merchant of Riga, he decamped to Amsterdam. At that place he
formed an acquaintance with a woman whce husband was a mate on
board an East India vessel, with whom he cohabited during a period of
THE XEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 83
eJjjIit numths. His innamorata then informed him that he must retire in
favour of her husband, whose return she daily expected ; but he could not
make up his mind to give up his connexion without procuring some sub-
stantial proof of his good fortune, and he did not venture to depart until
he had secured to himself booty of the value of about 250/. in goods and
money. Rotterda.m was the next point to which he proceeded ; but from
thence he almost immediately departed for New England. On his arrival
there, he deposited the wares of which he had possessed himself in a com-
modious storer.ouse, and assuming the character of a merchant, he began
to look out for a wife, with whom he hoped to procure a fortuie sufficient
to enable hini to live with respectability. As Christmas approached, he
became intimate with his neighbours, and he was induced to keep the
festival with a ,AIr. Brown, who had a family of three daughters and four
maid-servants. A prolonged visit at the house of his host enabled him to
ingratiate himself so far with the young women as to procure from them
more than ordinary favours ; and he did not quit the agreeable society with
wliicli he met, until more than one or two of his fair friends had reason to
regret the intimacy which had subsisted between them. Not long after this,
he addressed himself to a yovrag lady, the daughter of a magistrate, whose
hand he solicited in marriage ; and her father making no objection to the
celebration of the nuptials, the banns were published in the parish church,
in accordance witli the usual custom. On the first day no objection was
made ; but upon the publication taking place the second time, there
appeared no less than seven injured women, who forbade the ceremony
proceeding any further. The time which had elapsed since the intended
bridegroom had obtained the consent of the young lady and her father to
the proposed match, had been quite sufficient to enable him to work him-
self into the good graces of the former ; and thinking it now quite time to
depart, he packed up what few moveables he still possessed, and proceeded to
New York. His residence tliere, however, was soon discovered by his
proposed father-in-law ; and overtures having been made by the old gen-
tleman, he consented to return and marry the girl, whom he had debauched,
upon the receipt of 300/. The ceremony had no sooner been performed,
than his re-appearance at Boston having been discovered by the friends of
the other girls, his apprehension was secured at their instance, in order that
he might be compelled to give security for the maintenance of the progeny to
which they were about to give birth. His father-in-law at once undertook
tliat he should be forthcoming when wanted, and upon this assvu'ance he
regained his liberty ; but he had hardly obtained the possession of the
promised dower, when he once again bade adieu to his Boston friends, and
returned to New York.
His improvidence speedily reduced him in that city to a condition of the
most abject misery and want, and he was at length compelled to accept
employment in the yard of a quaker shipbuilder. He was treated with
the greatest kindness by his master, but the attention which he received
appeared to excite only ingratitude in his mind : for he not only found
means to become intimate with his mistress, but he at length absconded,
carrying with him about 70/., which he procured by breaking open a chest
in his master's house. He now proceeded to Philadelphia, which place he
conceived would be well calculated for the concealment of his past iniquities,
and a renewal of his schemes upon the unwary. A widow and licr two
86 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
daughters were the next new victims to his diabolical lusts. Having
become intimate with the mother, he ^subsequently, in turn, found means to
seduce the daughters. The widow was outrag<?ous at the discovery of this
treble act of duplicity, and insisted that he should afJbrd the only reparation
which remained in his power. A diiiiculty, however, arose, for it became
obvious tliat he could not marry them all tliree ; but at length a satis-
factory adjustment took place, an arrangement being made, by which one
of the daughters was married to a former lov<r, the other being committed
to the tender mercies of our hero, with a dower of 600/. and some plate.
Affairs were no sooner settled in this way, however, than Ricliardson,
already weary of his wife, absconded to South Carolina, and there he
obtained employment on board a vessel trading between that place and
Jamaica. He was soon engaged in another intrigue with the daughter of
his commander, and having added a tliird wife to his list, he started upon
a new expedition to Barbadoes. But this voyage proved unfortunate,
for the vessel being wrecked, he lost all tliat he possessed. Being picked
up, he was carried to St. Kitt's ; and from thence he proceeded to Jamaica,
to Cai'thagena, Vera Cruz, and finally to England. The port at which
he arrived was Chatham, and chance threw him once again into a situation,
in which he was enabled to impose upon the good-nature of strangers.
Putting up at tlie house of a publican named Ballard, his liost became
possessed of an idea that he was no other than a brother of his, who had
gone to sea several years before, but had never returned ; and Richardson,
taking advantage of the good-natured credulity which tlie other exhibited,
declared himself to be his long-lost relation. Great rejoicings took place
upon the supposed discovery being made, and our hero went the round of
his newly- found friends, permitting his good -nature to be imposed upon
by the payment to him of a legacy alleged to have been left by his
deceased parents. But his villanies did not rest there ; for, being intro-
duced to two sisters named Knowlding, he so far ingratiated himself with
one of them, as to obtain possession of the title-deeds of the small estate
which she possessed, which he mortgaged at Gravesend for 800/., and
then immediately sailed for Venice with the proceeds.
It was not long before, in tJiat city of splendour, he succeeded in disposing
of his ill-gotten spoil, and then he went to Ancona, where he became
acquainted with Captain Benjamin Hartley, for whose murder he was
eventually executed. Capt. Hartley, it appears, had sailed to that place
with a cargo of pilchards, and having discharged his lading, he was about
to proceed to Turkey upon a new trip. Being in want of a carpenter, he
prevailed upon Richardson to accompany him in that capacity. On board
the vessel, Covle, the fellow sufferer with Richardson, was employed as
mate. The vessel proceeded in one course to Turkey, where having taken
in a cargo of corn, she sailed to Leghorn. She had not advanced many
leagues upon her voyage, however, liefore a plot for the murder of the
captain and the seizure of the vessel was put into execution. Coyle, it
appears, was the instigator of this foul conspiracy, and having obtained the
assistance of Richardson and a man named Larson, they all three pro-
ceeded to .the performance of their horrid project. On the first night of
the voyacre, they went to the captain's cabin at about midnight, determined
to despatch him as he lay in his hammock ; but Hartley being alarmed at
their presence, sprang upon deck and ran up the shrouds. His pursuers
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 87
•were not far behind him, and he was rapidly followed by Richardson and
Larson; but, driven to desperation by the dreadful situation in which he
was placed, he flung liimself from a fearful lieight upon the deck. Here
Coyle was in waiting to receive him, and raising a ])lunderl)uss to his
shoulder, he attemi)ted to shoot him. Tlie captain, however, avoided tlie
discharge, and, rushing to his antagonist, he wrested the blunderbuss from
him, and threw it overboard. By this time the crew had gained intelli-
gence of what was passing on deck, and, rushing through the hatchway,
Capt. Hartley perceived fi-om their looks that they were too little disposed
to assist him in opposition to the attack which had been made upon him.
He at once gave himself up for lost ; and, being stunned by a blow which
he received from Coyle, he was directly hove overboard.
Coyle and Richardson now assumed the respective offices of master and
mate of the vessel ; and, after a long consultation, it was determined that
they should bear up for the island of Foviniano, where it was hoped they
would be able to procure supplies. Here, however, their piratical pro-
ceedings were communicated to the authorities of the place by two boys,
who escaped from the vessel during the night ; and the crew, discovering
the dangerous position in which they were placed, immediately set sail in
the long-boat for Tunis. On their arrival at that place, they were carried
before the English consul, to whom they represented themselves to be the
crew of a vessel which had been lost oft" Sardinia, but having been supplied
with money, Coyle, while in a state of intoxication, spoke so freely of their
adventures, that he was immediately placed under arrest. Richardson,
however, escaped to Tripoli, and from thence to ]\Ialta and Sicily ; but on
his going to Messina, he was taken into custody on the representations of
a friend of the deceased Capt. Hartley. Having remained in prison durinfr
a period of nine months, he procured his liberation by representing to the
king of Naples that he had been a servant to his father ; and he then
travelled to Rome and Civita Yecchia, where he was finally apprehended
and sent to England. Coyle had only just before reached London, and
they were immediately both indicted for the murder of their commander.
The evidence against them consisted of the declarations made by the two
boys, to whom we have already alluded ; and having been found guilty,
they received sentence of death. The wretched man Coyle, who was
respectably connected in Devonshire, appeared sensible of the enormity of
the crime of which he had been guilty, and professed the greatest penitence;
while Richardson, on the other hand, exhibited an extraordinary degree of
recklessness. They were hanged at Execution Dock on the 25th of
January, 1738.
GEORGE PRICE.
CONVICTED OF MURDER.
The case of this malefactor gives us an opportunity of bringing under
the notice of the reader the occurrence of a calamity which has always
attracted considerable atteniion, — namely, the breaking out of the jail fever.
The offence of the prisoner was that of the murder of his wife, a crime
which he perpetrated on Hounslow Heath, in a gig, within view of the
gibbets which formerly stood there, by strangling her with the thong of
88 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAK.
his whip. lie was apprehended upon suspicion of the crime, and was
found guilty, and sentenced to death, but before the law could be executed
upon him he died in Newgate, of the jail fever, on the 22d October,
1738. The following account of this malignant fever, shows the peculiar
circumstances imder which it first exhibited itself. It appears that it was
always attended with a degree of malignity, in proportion to the closeness
and stench of the place.
The assize held at Oxford in the year 1577, called the " Black Assize,"
was a dreadful instance of the deadly effects of the jail fever. The judges,
jury, witnesses, and in fact nearly every person except the prisoners, women,
and children, in court, were killed by a foul air, which at first was thought
to have arisen out of the bowels of the earth ; but that great philosopher,
Lord Bacon, proved it to have come from the prisoners, taken out of a
noisome jail, and brought into co\irt to take their trials; and they alone,
being subject to the inhaling foul air, were not injured by it.
" Baker's Chronicle," a work of the highest authenticity, thus speaks
of the Black Assize : — " The Court were surprised with a pestilent savour,
whether arising from the noisome smell of the prisoners, or from the damp
of the ground, is uncertain ; but all that were present within forty hours
died, except the prisoners, and the women and children ; and the contagion
went no farther. There died Robert Bell, Lord Chief Baron, Robert de
Olie, Sir William Babington, the high sheriff' of Oxfordshire, some of the
most eminent lawyers, the jurors, and three hundred others, more
or less."
Some attributed the cause of the sudden mortality at Oxford to witch-
craft, the people in those times being very superstitious. In " Webster's
Display of Witchcraft," a work of some authenticity as to the relation of
circumstances as they occurred, we find the following account of the Black
Assize, which we insert as a matter of curiosity : —
" The 4th and 5th days of July, 1559, were holden the assizes at
Oxford, where was arraigned and condemned one Rowland Jenkes, for his
seditious tongue, at which time there arose such a damp, that almost all
were smothered. Very few escaped that were not taken at that instant.
The jurors died presently ; shortly after died Sir Robert Bell, Lord Chief
Baron, Sir Robert De Olie, Sir Wm. Babington, Mr, Weneman, Mr. De
Olie, high sheriff", Mr. Davers, Mr. Harcourt, Mr. Kirle, Mr. Pheteplace,
Mr. Greenwood, ]\Ir. Foster, Sergeant Baram, ]\Ir. Stevens, &c. There
died in Oxford three hundred persons ; and sickened there, but died in
other places, two hundred and odd, from the 6th of July to the 12th of
August, after which day died not one of that sickness, for one of them
infected not another, nor any one woman or child died thereof. This is
the punctual relation according to our English annals, which relate nothing
of what should be the cause of the arising of such a damp just at the
conjuncture of time when Jenkes was condemned, there being none before,
and so it could not be a prison infection ; for that would have manifested
itself by smell, or operating sooner. But to take away all scruple, and to
assign the true cause, it was thus : It fortuned that a manuscript fell into
my hands, collected by an ancient gentleman of York, who was a great
observer and gatherer of strange things and facts, who lived about the
time of this accident happening at Oxford, wherein it is related thus : —
That Rowland Jenkes, being imprisoned for treasonable words spoken
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR 89
aoainst the queen, and lieing a popish recusant, liad, notwithstanding,
during tlie time of his restraint, liberty some time to walk abroad with the
keeper ; and that one day he came to an apothecary, and showed him a
receipt which lie desired him to make up ; but the apothecary, upon
viewing of it, told him that it was a strong and dangerous receipt, and
required some time to prepare it ; also asking to what use he would apply
it. He answered, " To kill the rats, that since his imprisonment spoiler,
his books;" so being satisfied, he promised to make it ready. After a
certain time he cometh to know if it were ready, but the apothecary said
the ingredients were so hard to procure that he had not done it, and so
gave him the receipt again, of which he had taken a copy, which mine
author had there precisely written down, but did seem so horriblypoisonous,
that I cut it forth, lest it might fall into the hands of wicked persons.
But after, it seems, he had it prepared, and against the day of his trial
had made a wick of it, (for so is the word, — that is, so fitted it that like a
candle, it might be fired,) which as soon as ever he was condemned he
lighted, having provided himself with a tinder-box and steel to strike fire.
And whosoever should know the ingredients of that wick or candle, and
the manner of the composition, will easily be persuaded of the virulency
and venomous effect of it.'"
In the year 1730, the Lord Chief Baron Pengelly, with several of his
officers and servants ; Sir James Sheppard, sergeant-at-law ; and John
Pigot, Esq. high sheriff for Somersetshire, died at Blandford, on the
Western Circuit of the Lent assize, from the infected stench brought with
the prisoners from Ilchester jail to their trials at Taunton, in wliich town
the infection afterwards spread, and carried off some hundred persons.
In 17o4 and 1753 this distemper prevailed in Newgate to a degree
which carried off more than one-fifth of the prisoners.
RICHARD TURPIN.
EXECUTED FOR HORSE-STEALING.
The character v/hich this notorious offender is generally supposed to
have possessed for remarkable gallantry and courage, and which in one
instance has been deemed of sufficient importance to fit him for one of the
heroes of a romance*, upon being examined, appears to sink him to the
low degree of a petty pilferer, of a heartless plunderer, and even of a
brutal murderer.
Turpin was the son of a farmer named John Turpin, at Thackstead, in
Essex ; and having received a common school education, was apprenticed
to a butcher in Whitechapel, in whose service he at an early age distin
guished himself for the brutality of his disposition. On the expiration of
his ap])renticeship, he was married to a young woman named Palmer, who
resided at East Ham in Essex, and set up in business for himself ; but ho
had not been thus occupied long, before he sought to decrease his expen-
diture in trade by stealing his neighbours' cattle, and cutting them up an8
selling them in his shop. His proceedings, however, received an unes
* In Mr. Ainsworth's Romance of " RookwooJ," Turpin is one of the most striking
cliaiji'-tcrs.
00 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
pected check; for having stolen two oxen from a Mr. Giles at Plaistow, hfi
drove them straight home ; but two of Giles' servants having obtained
sufficient evidence of the robbery, a warrant was obtained for his appre-
hension, and he only evaded the officers who were in search of him, by
makinc his escape from the back window of his house at the very moment
when they were entering at the door.
Having retreated to a place of security, he found means to inform his
wife where he was concealed, and she furnished him with money, with
which he travelled into the hundreds of Essex, where he joined a gang of
smugglers, with whom he was for some time successful. A body of the
Custom-house officers, however, by one fortunate stroke, deprived him of
all his ill-acquired gains. Thrown out of this kind of business, he con-
nected himself with a gang of deer-stealers, the principal part of whose
depredations v/ere committed on Epping Forest, and tlie parks in its
neighbourhood : but their eftbrts not succeeding to the expectation of the
robbers, they determined to commence housebreakers. Their plan was to
fix on those houses which they presumed contained any valuable property ;
and Avhile one of them knocked at the door, the others rushed in, and
seized whatever they might deem worthy of their notice.
The first attack of this kind was at the house of Mr. Strype, an old man
who kept a chandler's shop at Watford, whom they robbed of all the
money in his possession, but did not offer him any personal violence.
The well-known story of placing the old woman on the fire at Loughton
is thus related by the original historian of the life of our hero : —
*" Turpin now acquainted his associates that there was an old woman at
Loughton who was in possession of seven or eight hundred pounds, where-
upon they agreed to rob her ; and when they came to the door, one of them
knocked, and the rest forcing their way into the house, tied handkerchiefs
over the eyes of the old woman and her maid.
" This being done, Turpin demanded what money was in the house ; and
the owner hesitating to tell him. lie threatened to set her on the fire if she
did not make an immediate discovery. Still, however, she refused to give
the desired information : on which the villains actually placed her on the
fire, where she sat till tlie tormenting pains compelled her to discover her
hidden treasure ; so that the robbers possessed themselves of above four
hundred pounds, and decamped with the booty."
The gang appear to have proceeded with some success, for soon after-
wards tliey robbed the house of a farmer at Barking of above 700/. in a
most daring manner, and then they determined to attack the house of Mr.
Mason, the keeper of Epping Forest. Turpin, it appears, was absent from
this expedition, for he was unable to remain with so much money in his
pocket as he possessed, and he therefore started to London to spend it in
riot and intoxication. His companions, however, were true to their faith,
and having obtained a considerable booty, they sought him in town and
shared the produce of the rolibery with him.
On the 11th of January, 1735, Turpin and five of his companions went
to the house of Mr. Saunders, a rich farmer at Charlton, in Kent, between
seven and eio-ht in the eveninof, and, having: knocked at the door, asked if
]\lr. Saunders was at home. Being answered in the affirmative, they
rushed into the house, and found INIr. Saunders, with his wife and friends,
playing at cards in the parlour. They told the company that they should
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 51
remain xminjured if thoy made no disturbance, and having made prize of u
silver snuft'-box which lay on the table, part of the gang stood guard over
the company, while the others attended Mr. Saunders througli the house,
and, breaking open his escrutoires and closets, stole above a hundred
pounds, exclusive of plate. During these transactions the servant-maid
ran up stairs, barred the door of her room, and called out " Tliieves !'' with
a view of alarming the neighbourhood ; but the robbers broke open the
door, secured her, and then robbed the house of all the valuable property
tliey had not before taken. Finding some mince-pies and some bottles of
wine, they sat down to regale themselves ; and meeting with a bottle of
bi-andy, they compelled each of the company to drink a glass of it. Mrs.
Saunders fainted through terror, but the gallantry of the thieves would not
permit her to remain in this condition, and they therefore administered
some drops in water to her, and recovered her to the use of her senses.
Having staid in the house a considerable time, they packed up their booty
and departed, declaring that if any of the family gave the least alarm
within two hours, or advertised the marks of the stolen plate, they would
return and murder them at a future time. Retiring to a public-house at
AVoolwich, where they had concerted the robbery, they crossed the Thames
to an empty house in Ratcliffe Highway, and there deposited the stolen
effects till they found a purchaser for them.
Their next attack was upon the house of Mr. Shelden, near Croydon, in
Surrey, where they obtained a considerable booty in money and jewels.
They then concerted the robbery of Mr. Lawrence, of Edgeware, in
]\Iiddlesex, to the commission of which they proceeded on the 4th February.
They arrived at Edgeware at about five in the evening, and, after obtaining
some refreshment, they went to the scene of their intended outrage at about
seven o'clock, when IMr. Lawrence had just discharged his workmen.
Quitting their horses at the outer gate, they seized a sheep -boy, whom
they compelled to conduct them to the house-door, under fear of death ;
and they there obliged liim to procure the opening of the door by knocking
and calling to his fellow-servants. As soon as the door was open, they all
rushed in, and presenting pistols, they seized Mr. Lawrence and his
servant, threw a cloth over their faces, and, taking the boy into another
room, demanded what fire-arms were in the house ? He replied that there
was only an old gun, which they broke in pieces. They then bound IMr.
Lawrence and his man, and made them sit by the boy ; and Turpin,
seai'ching the gentleman, took from him a guinea, a Portugal piece, and
some silver ; but, not being satisfied with this booty, they forced him to
conduct them up stairs, where they broke open a closet, and stole some
money and plate. Being dissatisfied, they swore that they would murder
Mr. Lawrence if some further booty was not produced, and one of them took
a kettle of water from the fire, and threw it over him ; but it providentially
happened not to be hot enough to scald him. In the interim, the maid
servant, who was churning butter in the dairy, hearing a noise in tlie
house, apprehended some mischief, on which she blew out her candle tc
screen herself ; but, being found in the course of their search, one of the
miscreants compelled her to go up stairs, where he gratified his brutal
passion by force. They then robbed the house of all the valuable efiects
they could find, locked the family into the parlour, threw the key into the
garden, and took their ill-gotten plunder to London.
P9 THE NEAV NE-\VGATE CALENDAR.
The particulars of this atrocious robbery being- represented to the king
a proclarnation was issued, offering a reward of fifty guineas for the appre-
hension of the offenders, and a pardon to any one of the parties who should
impeach his associates. Tliis, however, was unsuccessful, and the robbers
continued their depredations as before. On the 7th February, six of them
assembled at the "White Bear, in Drury Lane, and they agreed to rob ^Ir.
Francis, a farmer, at ]\Iarylebone. They accordingly proceeded to his
house forthwith, and having bound all the servants and Mr. Francis in the
stable, they rushed into the house, tied ]Mrs. Francis, her daughter, and
the maid-servant, and beat them in a most cruel manner. One of tlie
thieves then stood sentry while the rest rifled the house, in which they
found a silver tankard, a medal of Charles I., a gold watch, several gold
rings, a considerable sum of money, and a variety of valuable linen and
otlier effects, which they conveyed to London.
Hereupon a reward of one hundred pounds was offered for the appre-
hension of the offenders ; in consequence of which two of them were taken
into custody, tried, convicted on the evidence of an accomplice, and hanged
in cliains : and the whole gang being dispersed, Turpin went into the
country to renew liis depredations on the public, in any new line of
business whicli might strike his fancy. On his way towards Cambridge
he fell in with a young man of gentlemanly appearance, who was well
mounted, and expecting a tolerable booty, he presented a pistol to his
breast and demanded his money. The only answer wliich he received,
however, was a hearty peal of laughter; and when the highwayman,
enraged at the supposed insult cast upon him, threatened instant destruction
to the stranwer in case of any further refusal, the latter exclaimed — " AVhat !
door eat doo- ? — Come, come, brother Turpin, if you don't know me, I know
vou, and shall be glad of your company." The mystery was soon solved; the
stranorer was no other than King, the gentleman highwayman, and a bargain
of partnership was struck between them, which terminated only with the
death of our hero's new associate, by the hand of his companion in iniquity.
Joined now in a common cause against the public, they committed a great
number of robberies, imtil at length they were so well known that no
public-house would receive them as guests. Thus situated, they fixed on
a spot between the King's Oak and the Loughton road, on Epping Forest,
where they made a cave which was large enough to receive them and their
horses. The cave was enclosed within a sort of tliicket of bushes and
brambles, through which they could look and see passengers on the road,
while they remained unobserved ; and from this station they used to issue,
and robbed such a number of persons, that at length the very pedlars wlio
travelled the road carried fire-arms for their defence. While thus situated,
tliev were frequently visited by Turpin's wife, who used to supply tliem
with necessaries, and who often remained with her husband in tlie cave,
during King's absence, for the night.
Having taken a ride as far as Bungay, in Suffolk, the robbers observed
two young countrywomen receive fourteen poimds for corn, on which
Turpin resolved to rob them of the money. King objected, saying it was
a pity to rob such pretty girls: but Turpin was obstinate, and obtained
the booty. Upon their return home on the following day, they stopped
a Mr. Bra die, of London, who was riding in his chariot with his children.
The gentleman, seeing only one robber, was preparing to make resistance,
yUi/lA^^
ItCC^^U
Wl'.it ' Dr.,^ r.it 71,
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 93
when King called to Turpin to hold tlie horses, and they took from hjm
his watch, money, and an old monrniug-ring ; but returned tlie latter, as
he declared that its intrinsic value was trifling, and that he was very
unwillino- to part with it. Finding that they readily parted with the
rinc, he asked them what he must give for the watch : on which King
said to Turpin, " What say you. Jack (by which name he always called
him), he seems to be a good honest fellow ; shall we let him have the
watch V Turpin answered, " Do as you please." Whereupon King said,
" You must pay six guineas for it. We never sell for more, though the
watch sliould be worth six-and-thirty." The gentleman therefore received
tlie watch, and said that the money should be left at the Dial, in Birchin-
lane, where they might receive it.
The greatest crime of which Turpin appears to have been guilty was
committed soon after this — it was tliat of murder. The active inquiries
which the police of the day were making after him and his companion,
obliged them to separate; but Turpin, being less wary than King, con-
tinued to inhabit their old dwelling in the forest. The tempting offer of
100/. reward induced the servant of a gentleman, named Thompson, and a
higiifler, to go out in the hope of capturing the highwayman ; and Turpin,
being unaware of their object, and seeing them approach his cave with a
gun, mistook them for poacliers. He called to them, telling them that
there were no hares in tliat thicket, upon which the servant exclaimed,
" No, but I have found a Turpin,' and instantly presenting his gun, he
called upon him to surrender. Turpin spoke to him in a friendly way,
but retreating from him at the same time, lie seized his own gun, and shot
him dead on the spot, the higgler running off with the greatest precipitation.
The consequence of tliis most detestable act was, that a great outcry was
raised against the highwayman, and he was compelled to quit the place on
wliich he had hitherto relied for his concealment. It was afterwards
examined, and there were found in it two shirts, two pairs of stockings, a
piece of ham, and part of a bottle of wine. His place of refuge was in
Hertfordshire ; and he sent a letter to his wife to meet him at a public-
house in the town of Hertford, but going to keep his appointment he met
a butcher, to whom he owed a sum of money. The latter demanded
payment, and Dick promised to get the money of his wife, who was in the
next room ; but while the butcher was hinting to some of his acquaintance
that the person present was Turpin, and that they might take him into
custody after he had rsceived his debt, the highwayman made his escape
through a window, and rode off with great expedition.
He soon found King ; but their meeting was unfortunate for the latter,
for it ended in his death. Proceeding togetlier towards London in the
dusk of the evening, when they came near the Green Man on Epping
Forest, they overtook a Mr. JNIajor, who bi ing mounted on a very fine
horse, while Turpin's beast was jaded, the latter obliged him to dismount,
and exchange. The robbers now pursued their journey towards London ;
and jNIr. Major, going to the Green Man, gave an account of the affair ; on
wliich it was conjectured that Turpin had been the robber. It was on a
Saturday evening that this robbery was committed ; but Mr. Major being
advised to print hand-bills immediately, notice was given to the landlord of
the Green Man, that such a horse as had been lost had been left at the Red
Lion in Whitechapel. The landlord going thither, determined to wait
94 THE NEAV NEWGATE CALENDAR.
till s^me Derson came for it ; and at about eleven at night, King's brother
came to pay for the horse, and take him away, on which he was imme-
diately seized, and conducted into tlie house. Being asked what right he
had to the horse, he said he had bouglit it ; but the landlord, examining a
whip which he had in his hand, found a button at the end of the handle
iialf broken ofi", and the name of 3Iajor on the remaining half. Upon this
he was given into the custody of a constable ; but as it was not supposed
that he was the actual robber, he was told that he should have his liberty
if he would discover his employer. Hereupon he said that a stout man, in
a white duffil coat, was waiting for the horse in Red Lion-street ; on which
the company going thither, saw King, who drew a pistol, and attempted
to fire it, but it flashed in the pan : he then endeavoured to pull out another
pistol, but he could not, as it got entangled in his pocket. Turpin was at
this time watching at a short distance off", and riding towards the spot,
he saw his companion seized by some officers who had arrived. King
immediately cried out " Shoot him, or we are taken ;" on which Turpin
fired, but his shot penetrated the breast of his companion. King called out,
" Dick, you have killed me !" and Turpin then rode off at full speed.
King lived a week after this affair, and gave information that Turpin
might be found at a house near Hackney Marsh ; and, on inquiry, it was
discovered that Turpin had been there on the night that he rode off', lament-
ing that he had killed Kingr, who was his most faithful associate.
For a considerable time our hero skulked about the forest, having been
deprived of his retreat in the cave since he shot the servant of 3Ir. Tiiomp-
son; and a more active search for him having commenced, he determined
to make good his retreat into Yorkshire, where he thought that he would
be unknown, and might the more readily evade justice. The circumstance
which induced him to take this step, appears to have been an attempt made
by a gentleman's huntsman, to secure him by hunting him down with
blood-hounds, whose mouths he escaped only b)' mounting an oak, when
he had the satisfaction to see them pass by without noticing him.
Going first, therefore, to Long Sutton, in Lincolnshire, he stole some
horses, for which he was taken into custody ; but he escaped from the
constable as he was conducting him before a magistrate, and hastened to
Welton, in Yorkshire, where he went by the name of John Palmer, and
assumed the character of a gentleman.
He now frequently went into Lincolnshire, where he stole horses, which
he brought into Yorkshire, and there he sold or exchanged them. From
his being apparently a dealer in horses, he became acquainted with many
of the surrounding gentry and farmers ; and he frequently accompanied
them on hunting and shooting expeditions. On one of these occasions he
was returning home, when he wantonly shot a cock belonging to his land-
lord. Mr. Hall, a neighbour who witnessed the act, said, " You have
done wrong in shooting your landlord's cock," on which Turpin answered,
that if he would stay while he loaded his gun he would shoot him too.
Irritated by the insult, Mr. Hall communicated what had occurred to the
owner of the cock, whereupon complaint being made to the magistrates, a
warrant was granted for the apprehension of the offender; and on his being
taken into custody, he was examined before the magistrates at Beverley
and committed for want of sureties. Inquiries being made, the good
opinions which had been formed of his mode of life were soon dissipated ;
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAK. 95
and it was conjectured, that instead of being a horse-dealer, he was a hor.sL-
stealer. The magistrates, therefore, proceeded to him, and demanded lo
know what his business was ; and he answered, that about two years
before, he had carried on business at Long Sutton as a butcher, but that
havinor contracted some debts for sheep that proved rotten, lie had been com-
pelled to abscond, and to go into Yorkshire to live. The clerk of the peace
being conunissioned to ascertain the truth of tliis story, learned that he had
never been in business, and that he was suspected to be a horse -stealer,
and had been in custody but had escaped, and that there were many in-
formations against him for various offences. He was then committed to
York Castle ; and soon afterwards some persons coming from Lincolnshire,
claimed a mare and a foal, which were in his possession, and stated that they
had been stolen recently before.
The real name and character of the prisoner were soon afterwards disco-
vered by means of a letter, which he wrote to his brother in Essex. The
letter was as follows : —
" York, Februaiy 6, \7h9.
'• Dear Brother, — I am sorry to inform you that I am now under
confinement in York Castle for horse-stealing. If I could prty;Tire an
evidence from London to give me a character, that would go a great way
towards my being acquitted. I had not been lor.g in this county before my
apprehension, so it would pass off the readier. For Heaven's sake, dear
brother, do not neglect me ; you well know what I mean when I say I am
yours, " John Palmer."
The letter was returned to the Post Office unopened, because the postage
was not paid ; and Mr. Smith, tlie schoolmaster, by whom Turpin had
been taught to write, knowing the hand, carried the letter to a magistrate,
by whom it was broken open, and it was thus discovered that the supposed
John Palmer was Dick Turpin. Mr. Smith was in consequence despatched
to Yorkshire, an<l he immediately selected his former pupil from the other
prisoners, and subsequently gave evidence at the trial as to his identity.
On the rumour that the noted Turpin was a prisoner in York Castle,
persons flocked from all parts of the country to take a view of him, and
debates ran high whether he was the real person or not. Among others
who visited him was a young fellow who pretended to know the famous
Turpin ; and having regarded him a considerable time with looks of great
attention, he told the keeper he would bet him half a guinea that he was
not Turpin ; on which the prisoner, whispering the keeper, said •■' Lay him
the wager, and I'll go your halves."
When this notorious malefactor was brought to trial, he was convicted on
two indictments, and received sentence of death. After conviction he wrote to
Ills father, imploring him to intercede with a gentleman and lady of rank,
to make interest that his sentence miffht be remitted, and that he might be
transported ; but although the father did what was in his power, the
notoriety of his son's character was such, that no persons would exert them-
selves in his favour.
The pi'isoner meanwhile lived in the most gay and thoughtless manner,
regardless of all considerations of futurity, and affecting to make a jest of
tiie dreadful fate that awaited him.
Not many days before his execution, he bought a new fustian frock and
& I'air of pumps, in order to wear them at the time of Jiis deatli ; and on
96 THE NEW XEWGATE CALliXDAR.
the day before that appointed for the termination of his life, he hired f;v?
poor men, at five shillings each, to follow the cart as mourners. He gave
hatbands and gloves to several persons, and left a ring and other articles
of property to a married woman, with whom he had been acquainted in
Lincohishii'e.
On the morning of his doatli he was put into a cart, and being followed
by his mourners, he was drawn to the place of execution ; in his way to
which he bowed to tlie spectators with an air of the most astonishinor
indifference and intrepidity.
When he came to the fatal tree he ascended the ladder ; and, on his
right leg trembling, he stamped it down with an air of assumed courage,
as if he was ashamed to be observed to discover any signs of fear. Having
conversed with the executioner about half an hour, he threw himself off the
ladder, and expired in a few minutes. Turpia suffered at York, April 10,
1739.
The spectators of the execution seemed to be much affected at the fate of
this man, who was distinguished by the comeliness of his appearance. The
corpse was brought to the Blue Boar, in Castle-gate, York, where it
remained till the next morning, when it was interred in the church -yard of
St. George's parish, with an inscription on the coffin bearing the initials of
his name, and his age. The grave was made remarkably deep, and the
people who acted as mourners took such measures as they thought would
secure the body ; but about three o'clock on the following morning some
persons were observed in the cliurch-yard, who carried it off; and the
populace, having an intimation whither it was conveyed, found it in a
garden belonging to one of the surgeons of the city.
Hereupon they took the body, laid it on a board, and, having carried it
through tlie streets in a kind of triumphal manner, and then filled the coffin
with unslacked lime, buried it in the grave where it had been before depo-
sited.— It is difficult to conceive the reason of all this concern and sympathy
among the people ; for a more depraved, heartless villain never suffered the
penalty of the law. The fashion, however, which was then set appears to
have continued in existence up to the present day ; and fancy has done
more to secure the reputation of Turpin as a hero, and a man of courage
and generosity, than any pains he ever took to obtain for himself a good
name as an honest man. It is needless to add, that the story of the ride to
York, and of the wondrous deeds of the highwayman's steed, " Black
Bess," are, like many other tales of this fellow, the fabrications of some
poetical brain.
MARY YOUNG, alias JENNY DIVER.
EXECUTED FOR A STREET ROBBERY.
The name of this woman will long be celebrated in the annals of crime,
as beino- that of a person Avho w^as the most ingenious of her class.
^[ary Young was the daughter of poor parents in the nortii of Ireland •
and at the age of ten years entered the service of a gentlewoman, by whosf
directions she was instructed in reading, writing, and needle- work, in the
latter of which she attained a proficiency unusual in girls of her age. S(X^
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 97
after she arrived at her fifteenth year, a young man, who lived in the
vicinity, made strong pretensions of love to her, and liaving formed a desire
to visit London, she determined to quit her benefactress, and make the
passion of her lover, for whom she cared little, subservient to her pur-
pose. Slie therefore promised to marry him on condition of his taking her
to London, and he joyfully accepted her proposal, and immediately took a
]iassaoe to Liverpool. In order, however, to enable him to undertake the
journey, he robbed his master of a gold watch and 80 guineas, and then lie
joined his intended wife on board the ship. Arrived at Liverpool, they
determined to remain a short time to get over the effects of the voyage, and
they lived together as man and wife ; but when they were on the point of
starting to London by the waggon, the bridegroom was seized by a messen-
ger despatched in search of him from Ireland and conveyed before the mayor,
whitlier his companion accompanied him. He thei'e confessed the crime of
wliich he had been guilty, but did not implicate Young, and she, in conse
quence, was permitted to take her departure for London, having 10 guineas^
in licr pocket, wliicli she had recently received from her paramour. In a
short time tlie latter was sent to Ireland, where he was tried, and condenmed
to suffer death ; but his sentence was eventually changed to that of
transportation.
Upon her arrival in London, our heroine contracted an acquaintance with
one of her countrywomen, named Ann Murphy, by whom she was invited
to partake of a lodging in Long Acre. She endeavoured for a while to
obtain a livelihood by her needle; but, not being able to procure sufficient
employment, her situation became truly deplorable. Murphy then inti-
mated to her that she could introduce her to a mode of life that would prove
exceedingly lucrative, adding, that tlie most profound secrecy was required ;
and the other, expressing an anxious desire to learn the means of extricating
herself from the difficulties under which s!ie laboured, made a solemn decla-
ration that she would never divulge what Murphy should communicate. In
the evening, Murphy introduced her to a number of men and women,
assembled in a kind of club, near St. Giles's, who gained their living by
cutting off women's pockets, and stealing watches, &c. from men, in the
avenues of the theatres, and at other ])laccs of public resort ; and, on the
recommendation of Murphy, they admitted Mary a member of the society.
After her installation they dispersed, in order to pursue their il't^gal occupa-
tion ; and the booty obtained that night consisted of eighty pounds in cash
and a valuable gold watch. As ]\Iary was not yet acquainted with the art
of tliieving, she was not admitted to an equal share of the night's produce ;
but it was agreed that she should have two guineas. She now regularly
applied two hours every day in qualifying herself for an expert thief, by
attending to the instructions of experienced practitioners ; and, in a short
time, she was distinguished as the most ingenious and successful adventurer
of the whole gang. A young fellow of genteel appearance, who was a
member of the club, was singled out by her as the partner of her bed ; and
they cohabited for a considerable time as husband and wife.
In a few months our heroine became so expert in her profession as t©
acquire great consequence among her associates, who distinguished her by
the appellation of Jenny Diver, on account of her remarkable dexterity ;
and as that is the name by wliich she is more generally recognised in the
anecdotes of her life which follow, we shall so designate her.
VOL. I. O
98 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
Accompanied by one of her female accomplices, Jenny joined the crowd
at the entrance of a place of worship in the Old Jewry, where a popular
divine was to preach, and observing a young gentleman with a diamond
ring on his finger she held out her hand, which he kindly received in ordtr
to assist her. At this juncture she contrived to get possession of the ring
without the knowledge of the owner, after which she slipped beliind her
companion, and heard the gentleman say, that, as there was no probability
of gaining admittance, he would return. Upon his leaving the meeting he
missed his ring, and mentioned his loss to the persons who were near him,
adding that he suspected it to be stolen by a woman whom he Ijad endea-
voured to assist in the crowd ; but as the thief was unknown she escaped.
This proof of her dexterity was considered so remarkable that her associates
determined to allow her an equal share of all their booties, even though she
should not be present when tliey were obtained. In a short time after this
exploit she procured a pair of false hands and arms to be made, and conceal-
ing her real ones under her clothes, she put something beneath her stays so
as to make herself appear as if in a state of pregnancy, and repaired on a
Sunday evening to the place of worship above-mentioned in a sedan chair,
one of the gang going before to procure a seat for her among the genteeler
part of the congregation, and another attending in the character of a foot
man. Jenny being seated between two elderly ladies, each of whom had a
gold watch by her side, she conducted herself with great seeming devotion ;
but, the service being nearly concluded, she seized the opportunity, when
tiie ladies were standing up, of stealing their watches, which she delivered
to an accomplice in an adjoining pew. The devotions being ended, the con-
gregation were preparing to depart, when the ladies discovered their loss,
and a violent clamour ensued. One of the parties exclaimed " That her
watch must have been taken either by the devil or the pregnant woman !"
on which the other said, " bhe could vindicate the pregnant lady, whose
hands she was sure had not been removed from her lap during the whole
time of her being in the pew."
Flushed with the success of the adventure, our heroine determined to
pursue her good fortune ; and as another sermon was to be preached the
same evening, she adjourned to an adjacent public-house, where, without
either pain or difficulty, she soon reduced the protuberance of her waist,
and having entirely changed her dress, she returned to the meeting, where
she had not remained long before she picked a gentleman's pocket of a gold
watch, with which she escaped unsuspected. Her accomplices also were
industrious and successful ; for, on a division of the booty obtained this
evening, they each received thirty guineas. These acts procured for her
universal respect among her fellows, and in all their future transactions
they yielded an exact obedience to her wishes.
The game which she had played having been found so successful, Jenny
again assumed the appearance of a pregnant woman, and, attended by an
accomplice as a footman, went towards St. James's Park on a day when
the king was going to the House of Lords ; and, there being a great
number of persons between tlie Park and Spring Gardens, she purposely
slipped down, and was instantly surrounded by many of both sexes, who
were emulous to aflbrd her assistance ; but, affecting to be in violent pain,
she intimated to them that she was desirous of remaining t)n the ground
till she should be somewhat recovered. As she expected, the crowd
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 99
increased, and her pretended footman, and a female accomplice, were so
industrious as to obtain two diamond girdle-Liickles, a gold watch, a gold
siuift-box, and two purs3S, containing together upwards of forty guineas.
Tlie girdle-buckles, watch, and snuii'-box, were the following day adver-
tised, a considerable reward was oifered, and a promise given that no
questions should be asked of the party who should return them ; but our
heroine declaring that their restoration would entirely break down the
])rinciples upon which their association was conducted, they were sold to
the Jews in Duke's-place.
Ever fertile in inventions, she proceeded with her supposed servant to
the east-end of the town, and observnig a genteel house, the latter knocked
and begged that his mistress, who had been taken suddenly ill, might be
permitted to enter to rest herself a few minutes. The request was com-
plied with ; and while the mistress of the house and the servant were up
stairs seeking such things as might be supposed to aiibrd relief to their
visitor, she opened a drawer and stole sixty guineas ; and afterwards, while
the lady was holding a smelling-bottle to her nose, she picked her pocket
of a purse, containing, however, only a small sum. Her supposed servant,
in the mean while, was not idle, and having been ordered into the kitchen,
he pocketed six silver table-spoons, a pepper-box, and a salt-cellar. All
the available booty having now been secured, the servant was sent for a
coach, and Jenny, pretending to be somewhat recovered, went away,
saying that she was the wife of a respectable merchant in Thames-street,
and pressing her entertainer to dine with her on a certain day, wluch she
appointed. The impudence of these frauds, however, soon attracted public
attention, and it was found that some new plan must be determined upon,
by which the public might be gulled.
Until some novel method of robbing should be devised, however, it was
determined that the gang should go to Bristol, to seek adventures and
profit during the fair ; and in order to render their proceedings the more
likely to be successful, they admitted into their society a man who had
long subsisted there as a thief. Jenny and Murphy now assumed the
character of merchants' wives, while the new member and another of the
gang appeared as country farmers, and the footman was continued in the
same character. They took lodgings in different parts of the city ; and
they agreed, that in case of any of them being apprehended, the rest should
appear to speak to tlie character of the prisoners, and representing them to
be persons of reputation in London, endeavour to procure their release.
Being one day in the fair, they observed a west-country clothier giving
a sum of money to his servant, and heard him direct the man to deposit it
in a T)ureau. They followed the servant, and one of them fell down before
him, expecting that he would also fall, and that, as tliere was a gi'eat
crowd, the money might be easily secured ; but though the man fell into
the snare, they were not able to obtain their expected booty, and therefore
had recourse to the followino- strataofem : — One of the sang; asked the man
whether his master had not lately ordered him to carry home a sum of
money ; to which the other rej)lied in the affirmative ; and the sharper
then told him that he must return to his master, who had purchased some
goods, and waited to pay for them. The countryman followed him to
Jenny's lodgings, and, being introduced to her, she desired him to be
eeated, saying his master was gone on some business in the neighbourhood,
100 THK NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
Dut had left orders for him to wait till his return. She urged him to
drink a glass of wine, but the poor fellow declined her offers with awkward
simplicity, the pretended footman having taught him to believe her a
woman of great wealth and consequence. Her encouraging solicitations,
however, conquered his bashfulness, and he drank till he became intoxi-
cated. Being conducted into another apartment, he soon fell fast asleep, and,
while in that situation, he was robbed of the money he had received from
his master, which proved to be a hundred pounds. They were no sooner
in possession of the cash, than they discharged the demand of the inn-
keeper, and set out in the first stage for London.
Soon after their return to town Jenny and her associates went to London
Bridge in the dusk of the evening and, observing a lady standing at a
door to avoid the carriages, a number of which were passing, one of the
men went up to her, and, under pretence of giving her assistance, seized
both her hands, which he held till his accomplices had rifled her pockets
of a gold snuff-box, a silver case containing a set of instruments, and
thirty guineas in cash.
On the following day, as Jenny, and an accomplice, in the character of
a footman, were walking through Change Alley, she picked a gentleman's
pocket of a bank-note for two hundred pounds, for which she received one
hundred and thirty from a Jew, with whom the gang had very extensive
connexions.
Our heroine now hired a real footman ; and her favourite, who had long
acted in that character, assumed the appearance of a gentleman; and they
hired lodgings in the neighbourhood of Covent Garden, that they might
more conveniently attend the theatres. She dressed herself in an elegant
manner, and went to the theatre one evening when the king was to be
present ; and, during the performance, she attracted the particular atten-
tion of a young gentleman of fortune from Yorkshire, who declared, in the
most passionate tem>s, that she had made an absolute conquest, and
earnestly solicited that he might be permitted to attend her home. She at
first refused to comply with his request, saying that she was newly
married, but she at length yielded to his entreaties, and he accompanied
her to her door in a hackney-coach, and quitted her only on her promising
to admit him on a future evening, when, she said, her husband would be
out of town. The day of appointment being arrived, two of the gang
were equipped in elegant liveries ; and Anne Murphy appeared as waiting-
maid. The gentleman soon made his appearance, having a gold -headed
cane in his hand, a sword by his side with a gold hilt, and wearing a gold
watch and a diamond ring. Being introduced to the bed-chamber, he was
soon deprived of his ring ; and he had not undressed many minutes before
the lady's-maid knocked violently at the door, exclaiming that her master
was suddenly returned. Jenny affected to be labouring imder the most
violent agitation, and begged that the gentleman would cover himself with
the bed-clothes, saying that she would convey his apparel into the other
room, so that, if her husband came there, nothing would appear to awaken
his suspicion ; and adding that, under pretence of indisposition, she would
prevail upon her husband to sleep in another bed, and then return to the
arms of her lover. The gull acquiesced, and the clothes being removed, a
short consultation was held among the thieves, the result of wi.ich was
that they immediately decamped, carrying their booty with them, which.
exclusive of the cane &c., was worth -s. hundred guineas.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 101
The amorous youth meanwhile waited witli anxious impatience for the
coming of his Dulcinea ; but morning liaving arrived, he rang the bell, and
the people of the house coming to him, found that he was locked in, the
fair fugitive having carried oflF the key with her. The door was, however,
burst open, and an eclaircissement ensued, when the gentleman explained
the manner in which he had been treated ; l)ut the people of the house,
deaf to his expostulations, threatened to publish the adventure through the
town, unless he would make up the loss which they had sustained. Rather
than risk the safety of his reputation, he sent for money and some clothes
and discharged the debt which Jenny had contracted, quitting the house,
bitterly repenting that his amorous qualities should have led him into such
a scrape.
The continuance of the system under which this gang pursued its labours
became now impossible, and they found it necessary to leave the metro-
polis ; but having committed numerous depredations- in the country, they
returned, and Jenny was unfortunately apprehended on a charge of picking
a gentleman's pocket, for which she was sentenced to be transported.
She remained nearly four months in Newgate, during which time she
employed a considerable sum in the purchase of stolen effects ; and when
she went on board the transport vessel, she shipped a quantity of goods
nearly sufficient to load a waggon. The property she possessed ensured
her great respect, and every possible convenience and accommodation during
the voyage ; and on her arrival in Virginia, she disposed of her goods,
and for some time lived in great splendour and elegance. She soon found,
however, that America was a country where she could expect but little
emolument from the practices she had so successfully followed in England,
and she therefore employed every art she was mistress of to ingratiate her-
self with a young gentleman, who was preparing to embark on board a
vessel bound for the port of London. He became much enamoured of her,
and brought her to England ; but while the ship lay at Gravesend, she
robbed him of all the property she could get into her possession, and pre-
tending indisposition, intimated a desire of going on shore, in which her
admirer acquiesced ; but she was no sooner on land than she made a preci-
pitate retreat.
She now travelled through various parts of the country ; and having by
her usual wicked practices obtained many considerable sums, she at length
returned to London, but was not able to find her former accomplices. She
frequented the Royal Exchange, the theatres, London-bridge, and other
places of public resort, and committed innumerable depredations on the
public ; but being again detected in picking a gentleman's pocket on
London-bridge, she was taken before a magistrate, to whom she declared
that her name was Jane Webb, and by that appellation she was committed
to Newgate.
On her trial, a gentleman who had detected her in the very act of pick-
ing the prosecutor's pocket, deposed that a person had applied to him,
offering fifty pounds, on condition that he should not appear in support of
the prosecution : and a lady swore that on the day the prisoner committed
tlie offence for which she stood indicted, she saw her pick the pockets of
more than twenty different people. The record of her former conviction
was not produced in court, and therefore she was arraigned for privately
stealing only, and-, on the clearest evidence, the jury pronounced her guilty.
102 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
Tlie property being valued at less than one shilling, she was sentenced to
transportation.
Twelve months had not elapsed before she returned from exile a second
time ; and on her arrival in London, she renewed her former practices. A
lady going from Sherborne-lane to Walbrook was accosted by a man, who
took her hand, seemingly as if to assist her in crossing some planks which
were placed over the gutter for the convenience of passengers ; but he
squeezed her fingers with so much force as to give her great pain, and in
the mean time Jenny picked her pocket of thirteen shillings and a penny.
The gentlewoman, conscious of being robbed, seized the thief by the gown,
and she was immediately conducted to the Comptor. She was examined
the next day by the lord mayor, who committed her to Newgate for trial.
At the ensuing sessions at the Old Bailey, she was tried on an indict-
ment charging her with privately stealing ; and a verdict of guilty having
been brought in, she was sentenced to death.
After conviction she appeared to have a due sense of the awful situation
in which she was placed ; and employing a great part of her time in devo-
tion, slie repented sincerely of the course of iniquity in which she had so
long persisted. On the day preceding that of her execution, she sent for
the woman who nursed her child, which was then about three years old,
and saying that there was a person who would pay for its maintenance,
she earnestly entreated that it might be carefully instructed in the duties of
religion. CJn the following morning she appeared to be in a serene state of
mind. The preparations in the press-yard for a moment shook her forti-
tude, but her spirits were soon again tolerably composed. She was con-
veyed to Tyburn in a mourning-coach, being attended by a clergyman, to
whom she declared her firm belief in the principles of the Protestant
Church. Her remains were, at her own desire, biiried in St. Pancras
churchyard.
Her execution took place on the 18th i\Iarch. 1740.
J
CHARLES DREW.
EXECUTED FOR THE MURDER OF HIS FATHER.
The only circumstance of peculiarity attending this case, and it is one
indeed, we are happy to say, not a little singular, is that the malefactor
was the son of the man whom he murdered. The father being possessed
of good property at Long Melford in Suffolk, discarded his son, who
appears to have iDeen brought up without any education being imparted to
him, on account of his connexion with a woman named Elizabeth Boyer.
The latter, angered at the contempt exhibited for her, urged lier paramour,
as well for revenge as for the accession to their means, which would be
produced by the old man's death, to commit the foul deed whicli cost him
his life. He was appreliended at the instance of a relation, a ]Mr. Timothy
Drew, and being convicted, Avas executed on the 9th April, 1740, at St.
Edmund's Bury, being in the twenty -fifth year of his age.
This case so nearly resembles the celebrated story of George Barnwell,
that the following anecdote in reference to the tragedy of that name will
not be misplaced here. It is related in reference to Mr. Ross, formerly a
tragedian of considerable celebrity.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAK. 103
" A gentleman, much dejected In liis looks, called one day on Ross, when
Btricken with years, and told him that his father, a wealthy citizen in
London, lay at the point of death, and begged that he might see him, or
he could not die in peace of mind. Curious as this I'equest appeared from
a stranger, and in such extremity, the actor hesitated ; but being much
pressed by his visitor, he agreed to accompany him. Arrived at the house of
the sick man, JVIr. Ross was announced, and soon admitted into his chamber ;
but observing the family to retire, and being left alone with tlie patient, his
wonder was again aroused. The dying penitent, now three score years and
ten, casting his languid eyes upon Ross, said, ' Can it be you who raised
my fortune — who saved my life? Then were you young like myself; ay,
and amiable amid the direst misfortunes, I determined to amend my life,
and avoid your fate.' Here nature in a struggle with death became over-
powered, and as the sick man's head fell upon his pillow, he faintly ejacu-
lated, ' O Barnwell ! Barnwell!' We may conceive the astonishment of
the player, whom age had long incapacitated from representing the unfor-
tunate ' London Apprentice.' The feeble man, renewing his efforts to
gratify a dying desire, again opened his eyes and continued : ' Mr. Ross,
some forty years ago, like George Barnwell, I wronged my master to
supply the unbounded extravagance of a Millwood. I took her to see your
performance, which so shocked me that I silently vowed to break the
connexion then by my side, and return to the path of virtue. I kept my
resolution, and replaced the money I had stolen before my villany was
detected. I bore up against the upbraidings of my deluder, and found a
Maria in my master's daughter. We married. I soon succeeded to her
father's business, and the young man who brought you here was the first
pledge of our love. I have more children, or I would have shown my
gratitude to you by a larger sum than I have bequeathed you ; but take a
thousand pounds affixed to your name.' At the dying man's signal, old
Ross left tlie room overwhelmed by his feelings."
CAPTAIN SAMUEL GOODERE, MATTHEW MAHONY, AND
CHARLES WHITE.
EXECUTED FOR THE MURDER OF SIR JOHN D. GOODERE, BART.
This atrocious murder was committed through the instrumentality of
Captain Sanmel Goodere, upon his brother Sir .John Dineley Goodere, on
board a man of war, of which the former was Captain.
Sir John, it appears, was possessed of an estate of 3000^. per annum,
situated at Evesham, in Worcestershire, which he derived from his father.
Sir Edward : and his brother, who is the subject of this sketch, having
been bred to the sea, was advanced to the rank of Captain of one of his
Majesty's vessels of war. Sir John having no children, ver\' sanguine
expectations were entertained by his brother that he should inherit his
property, but upon his discovering that he had made a will in favour of
their sister's children, his rage knew no bounds, and he determined upon a
most diabolical revenge for the supposed injury which he had received.
The vessel of which Captain Goodere had the command, it appears, was
employed as one of the Channel cruisers, and in the month of January,
104 THE >;E"W NEWGATE CALENDAR.
1741, it was lying at Bristol. At this period it happened that Sir John
Goodere was in that city, transacting some business with ]\Ir. Smith, an
attorney ; and his brother having been made acquainted with the circiim-
stance, fixed upon this as a proper time to put his pLan into execution.
Throwing himself into Mr. Smith's way, he assured him that a perfect
reconciliation had taken place between them, notwithstanding a misunder-
standing which was known to have existed ; and after some conversation,
learning that his brother was going to dine with that gentleman on a
certain day, he procured himself to be invited to meet him. Having
determined upon this as a favourable opportunity to carry his design into
execution, on his going ashore he carried with him some of his seamen,
to whom he gave instructions that Sir John being insane, he desired to
procure him to be carried on board his ship, in order that he might be
conveyed to a place of safety. The men therefore, having been regaled
during the evening at a neighbouring public-house, as night approached
placed themselves in readiness to obey the orders which they had received ;
and Sir John making his appearance, they seized him and forcibly pxit
him into a boat, in which they directly rowed him to the vessel. The
protestations made by the captain, that it was only a deserter whom they
were apprehending, silenced all inquiry from the crowd which had
assembled on their perceiving this outrage, and the imfortunate baronet
was secured without an effort being made to procure his release, or to save
him from the bloody fate ^^'hich awaited him.
As soon as the devoted victim was in tlie boat, he said to his brother,
" I know you have an intention to murder me ; and if you are ready to do
it, let me beg that it may be done here, without giving yourself the trouble
to take me on board ;" to which the captain said, "• No, brother, I am
going to prevent your rotting on land ; but, however, I would have you
make your peace with God this night."
Sir John having reached the vessel, he called to the seamen for help, but
they having learned their captain's commands from their fellows, did not
offer to render the slightest aid, and the wretched gentleman was imme-
diately conveyed to the purser's cabin.
White and ]\[ahony were selected by their captain as the performers in
the dreadful scene Avhich was now to be enacted. While Goodere stood
at the entrance of the cabin guarding it with a drawn sword, his two
assistants entered it, and approached their victim. He cried aloud for
mercy, offering all he possessed as a return, if they would spare his life ;
but, regardless of his prayers, they deliberately proceeded to the completion
of their sanguinary intentions. Seizing him by the shoulders, they threv/
him on the deck, and there, with a handkerchief which they took from
his pocket, they attempted to strangle him. Finding that their efforts
were unavailing, they procured a cord from their giiilty commander, with
which they sjieedily despatched him ; White kneeling on his breast and
holding his hands, while jMahony fixed the cord round his throat, and
tightened it until strangulation had taken place. They then accompanied
their captain to his cabin, who gave them the sum agreed upon for their
services, and bid them seek their safety in flight. The murder was soon
made known on shore, through the instrumentality of the crew of the
vessel ; and the circumstance having come to the knowledge of !Mr. Smith,
the attorney, he procured a warrant to be issued, upon which the officers
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 105
of the city proceeded on boai'd the ship. They found that the captain
liad there been ah-eady put under arrest by the lieutenant and sailing-
master, and he was immediately conveyed in custody to the prison of the
town. It was not long before Mahony and White were also secured ; and
the prisoners being brought to trial at Bristol, on the 26th March, 1741,
they were convicted on the clearest evidence, and sentenced to death.
Captain Goodere's time, after conviction, was spent chiefly in writing
letters to persons of rank, to make interest to save his life ; and his wife
and daughter presented a petition to the king : but all endeavours of this
kind proving ineffectual, he employed a man to hire some colliers to rescue
him on his way to the fatal tree.
His efforts in this respect, however, were as unavailing as those which
he had made to procure a mitigation of his pimishment ; for the circum-
stance having been made known to the sheriff, he took such steps as were
deemed expedient and necessary to prevent the success of the project. The
wretched companions in guilt of the captain exhibited the greatest hardi-
hood ; and when the jailers were employed in putting on tlieir irons, they
declared that they had no fear of death.
Captain Goodere's wife and daughter, dressed in deep mourning, took a
solemn leave of hin on the day before his death ; and he went in a
mourning-coach to the place of execution, to which his accomplices were
conveyed in a cart.
They were hanged near the Hot Wells, Bristol, on the 20th of April,
1741, within view of the place where tlie ship lay when the murder was
committed.
JOHN BODKIN, DOMINICK BODKIN, AND OTHERS.
EXECUTED FOR Ml'RDER.
Oliver Bodkin, Esq. was a gentleman who possessed a good estate
near Tuam, in Ireland. He had two sons by two wives. The elder son,
named John, to whom this narrative chiefly relates, was sent to Dublin
to study the law ; and the younger, who was about seven years of age,
remained at home with his parents. The young student lived in a very
dissipated manner at Dublin, and soon quitting his studies, came and
resided near his father's place of abode. The father allowed him a certain
annual sum for his support ; but, as he lived beyond his allowance, he
demanded farther assistance. The father, however, refusing to accede to
his wishes, he determined upon a horrible revenge, and included his
mother-in-law in his proposed scheme of vengeance, as he imagined that
she had induced his father to refuse him any further aid.
Having engaged his cousin, Dominick Bodkin, his father's shepherd,
John Hogan, and another ruffian of the name of Burke, to assist him in
the intended murders, they went to the house of Mr. Bodkin, senior; whose
household consisted of four men and three women servants, exclusive of
Mrs. Bodkin and the younger son, and a gentleman named Lynch, who was
at that time on a visit there. They found all the members of the family at
supper on their arrival, and having murdered them, they went into the
kitchen, where they killed three servant-maids ; and, finding the men iu
VOL. I. p
106 THE NEW NEWGATE CA1.ENDAR.
different parts of the house, they also sacrificed thern to their brutal
and unprovoked raoe. The murder of eleven persons being tims perpe-
trated, they quitted the fatal spot ; and, when some persons from Tuam
came the next morning to speak with Mr. Bodkin on business, they found
the house open, and beheld tlie dead body of Mr. Lynch, near which lay
tliat of ]\Irs. Bodkin, hacked and mangled in a shocking manner ; and, at
a small distance, lier husband, with his throat cut, and the child lying
dead across his breast. The throats of the maid-servants in tiie kitchen
were all cut ; and the men-servants in another room were also found
murdered. The assassins had even been so wanton in their cruelties as to
kill all the dogs and cats in the house. The neighbours being alarmed by
such a singular instance of barbarity, a suspicion fell on John Bodkin ;
who, being taken into custody, confessed all the tragical circumstances
above-mentioned, and impeached his accomplices: on which the other
offenders were taken into custody, and all of them were committed to the
jail of Tuam.
The shepherd then confessed that he had murdered two ; but that think-
in o- to preserve the boy, to whom he had been foster-father, he besmeared
him with blood, and laid him near his father. Dominick, perceiving him
alive, killed him ; and he afterwards murdered five more. John Bodkin
owned that he and Burke killed the remainder ; that he had formerly
attempted to poison his mother-in-law; and that he was concerned with
his first-cousins, John Bodkin, then living, and Frank Bodkin, then lately
dead, in strangling Dominick Bodkin, their brother, heir of the late Coun-
sellor John Bodkin, of Carobegg, to an estate of nine hundred pounds a
year.
When thev were brought to trial, John Bodkin, (the parricide), Domi-
nick Bodkin, and John Hogan, pleaded guilty ; and they were all
condemned, and executed at Tuam on the 26th of JMarch, 1742. The head
of the shepherd vvas fixed on Tuam market-house, and the bodies of the
others oibbeted within sight of the house where the murders had been
committed.
Upon the confession of John, the cousin of the same name was appre-
hended for the murder of his elder brother, Dominick Bodkin, and accused of
sittincr on his mouth and breast ixntil he was suffocated. He was taken in a
moss, or tiu*f boo-, near Tuam, covered over with straw, and disguised in an
old hat and peasant's clothes, for which he had given his own laced coat and
hat. Being examined before Lord Athenry, he said that he had fled for
fear of beino- loaded with irons in a jail, and denied having any hand in his
brother Dominick's death, affirming that he had died of a surfeit, as had
been reported. He was present at the execution of his relations, but con-
fessed nothing ; and thus (there being no positive proof against him) he
escaped justice.
A case in which more cold-blooded cruelty has been displayed than in
this, has seldom fallen under our notice. The murder of an indulgent
parent must be insufferably shocking to every humane mind : but when we
consider, as in the present instance, what a variety of unprovoked murders
were added to the first, the mind is lost in astonishment at the baseness,
the barbarity, the worse than savage degeneracy of those beings v/ho
could perpetrate such horrid deeds.
'?z.a/^/i.^&^iu^(yu(!!'a!^^MXi^ ^„^.'>^?^
^
^
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 107
JONATHAN BRADFORD.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
The details of this case reach us In a very abridged form ; and we have
been unable to collect any information on which any reliance can be placed
beyond that which is afforded us by the ordinary channels. It would
appear that Jonathan Bradford kept an inn in the city of Oxford. A gen-
tleman, (Mr. Hayes), attended by a man servant, put up one evening at
Bradford's house ; and in the night, the former being found murdered in
his bed, the landlord was apprehended on suspicion of having committed
the barbarous and inhospitable crime. The evidence given against him was
to the following effect : — Two gentlemen who had supped with Mr. Hayes,
and who retired at the same time to their respective chambers, being
alarmed in the night with a noise in his room, and soon hearing groans as
of a wounded man, got up in order to discover the cause, and found their
landlord, with a dark lantern and a knife in his hand, standing in a state of
astonishment and horror over his dying guest, who almost instantly
expired.
On this evidence, apparently conclusive, the jury convicted Bradford,
and he was executed. But the fate of this man may serve as a lesson to
jurymen to be extremely guarded in receiving circumstantial evidence.
The facts attending the above dreadful tragedy were not fully brought
to light until the death-bed confession of the real murderer ; a time when
we must all endeavour to make our peace with God,
Mr. Hayes was a man of considerable property, and greatly respected.
He had about him, when his sad destiny led him under the roof of Brad-
ford, a considerable sum of money ; and the landlord knowing this, deter-
mined to murder and rob him. For this horrid purpose he proceeded
with a dark lantern and a carving-knife, intending to cut the throat of his
guest while yet sleeping ; but what must have been his astonishment and
confusion to find his intended victim already murdered, and weltering in
his blood !
The wicked and unworthy servant had also determined on the murder
of his master ; and had committed the bloody deed, and secured his treasure,
a moment before the landlord entered for the same purpose.
THE EARL OF KILMARNOCK, AND LORD BALMERINO.
BEHEADED FOR HIGH TREASON.
A SHORT account of the circumstances attending the rebellion of 1715
having been given in this work, some notice will, doubtless, be expected of
the second transaction of the same character, and v»'ith the same object,
which occurred in the year 1745.
It appears that the Pretender having gained the protection of France,
and the French also having their own interests to serve, it was determined
that a second attempt to restore the Stuarts to the throne of England
should be made by the descent of a body of men upon Scotland, where it
108 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
was conjectured numbers would render assistance, which was eventually to
march forward towards London, and expel the reigning monarch. The
design was evidently known to the government, from an allusion made to
the circumstance by tlie king in his speech from the throne on the 2nd
May, 1 745 ; but the first notice whicli the British public had of the pro-
ceedings of the Pretender, was from a paragraph in tlie General Evening
Post, which said, "The Pretender's eldest son put to sea July 14th, from
France, in an armed ship of sixty guns, provided with a large quantity of
warlike stores, together with a frigate of thirty guns and a number of
smaller armed vessels, in order to land in Scotland, where he expected to
find twenty thousand men in arms, to make good his father's pretensions to
the crown of Great Britain. He was to be joined by five ships of the line
from Bi-est ; and four thousand five hundred Spaniards were embarking at
Ferrol."
The government, it appears, was not inactive on this occasion, and
proper instructions were given to such of the king's vessels as were cruising
in the Channel, to prevent the approach of any ships which might be sup-
posed to carry the leader of this rebellious attempt.
The young Pretender, followed by about fifty Scotch and Irish adven-
turers, meanwhile, came incog, through Normandy, and embarked on
board a ship of war of eighteen guns, which was joined off Belloisle by the
Elizabeth, and other ships. They intended to liave sailed northwards, and
to have landed in Scotland ; but on the 20th they came up with an
English fleet of merchant- vessels, under convoy of the Lion man-of-war, of
fifty-eight guns, commanded by Captain Brett, who immediately bore down
upon the French line-of-battle ship, which he engaged within pistol-shot
five hours, being constantly annoyed by the smaller ships of the enemy.
The riffginof of the Lion was cut to pieces ; her mizen-mast, mizentop-
mast, main-yard and fore-topsail, were shot away ; all her lower masts and
topmasts shot through in many places, so that' she lay mu^ed on the
sea, and could do nothing with her sails. Thus situated, the French ships
sheered off, and the Lion could make no effort to follow them. Captain
Brett had forty-five men killed: himself, all his lieutenants^ the master,
several midshipmen, and one hundred and seven foremast-men, wounded.
His principal antagonist, the Elizabeth, with difficulty got back to Brest,
quite disabled, and had sixty-four men killed, one hundred and thirty-nine
dangerously wounded, and a number more slightly injured. She had on
board four hundred thousand pounds sterling, and arms and ammunition
for several thousand men.
The friends of the Stuart cause in Scotland were in the mean time as
active as their opponents, and committed many irregularities for the pur-
pose of supplying their ranks with a sufficient number of soldiers ; and
being thus prepared, anxiously expected the arrival of their prince. The
latter found means to join his supporters by a small vessel, in which he
quitted the French coast ; and eluding the vigilance of the English cruisers,
he landed on the Isle of Skye, opposite to Lochaber, in the county of Inver-
ness. After a lapse of about three weeks, he appeared at the head of a
body of two thousand men, under a standard bearing the motto " Tandem
trinwphans" — " At length triumphant," and marching his army to Fort
William, he there published a manifesto, signed by his father at Rome,
containing many promises to those who would adhere to his cause, amongst
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. ]''9
which were undertakmi^s that lie would procure the dissohition of tlie
union of the two kingdoms, and the payment of the national deht. Tlie
country people flocked in great numhurs to his standard ; and tlie moh, by
which he was followed, soon assumed the appearance, in numbers at least,
of an army. Tlieir first attempt in arms, in opposition to two companies
of foot, of the St. Clair and INlurray's regiments, was successful, the soldiers
being far inferior in numbers ; and the rebels immediately marched upon
Perth, and having taken possession of that place, the Pretender issued his
orders for all persons who held public money to pay it into the hands of his
secretary. Dundee and Dumblain were successively seized by his soldiers;
and at length, on the 14th September, the Pretender proceeded through
the Royal Park and took possession of Holyrood House.
The money in the bank of Edinburgh, and the records in the public
offices, were now removed to the castle for security, and the gates of the
city were kept fast during the whole day ; but five hundred of the rebels,
having concealed themselves in the suburbs, took an opportunity, at four
o'clock in the morning, to follow a coach which was going in, and seizing
the gate called the Netherbow, they maintained their ground, while the
main body reached the centre of the city, and formed themselves in the
Parliament Close.
Thus possessed of the Scottish capital, they seized two thousand stand
of arms, and on the following day marched to oppose the royal army under
the command of General Cope. The two armies coming in sight of each
other, near Preston Pans, on the evening of the 20th, Colonel Gardiner
earnestly recommended it to the general to attack his opponents during the
night ; but, deaf to this advice, he kept the men under arms till morning,
though they were already greatly harassed. At five in the morning, the
rebels made a furious attack on the royal army, which was thrown into un-
speakable confusion by two regiments of dragoons falling back on the foot.
Colonel Gardiner, with five hundred foot, behaved with uncommon valour,
and covered the retreat of those v*lio fled ; but the colonel receiving a
mortal wound, the rebels made prisoners of nearly all the rest of the
king's troops.
The loss thus sustained by the royal army, was three hundred killed,
four hundred and fifty wounded, five hundred and twenty taken prisoners,
— total one thousand two hundred and seventy, while the rebels only lost fifty
men in all. Flushed witli this partial victory, the rebels returned to Edin-
burgh to make an attack upon the castle, and attempted to throw up an
entrenchment upon the hill ; but notice having been given to the inhabit-
ants to retire, the battery was attacked by the guns from above, the
works destroyed, and thirty of the assailants killed, besides three of the
inhabitants who rashly ventured near the spot. The rebel army remained
during seven weeks in this city ; and many noblemen and gentlemen with
their followers having joined it, a force of more than ten thoiisand men
was at length mustered. In November they marched upon Carlisle, and
after some resistance had been shown, it was surrendered, and the insur-
gents then forced their way to Manchester, where a regiment, chiefly
formed of Roman Catholics, was raised.
But now such decisive measures were taken as put an end very shortly to
the insurrection. The Duke of Cumberland was at this time in Flanders,
with the army, but being sent for thence, he soon arrived to take the
110 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
command of the royal forces. About the time he reached London, the
rebels had advanced as far as Derby ; but his royal highness lost no time
in travelling into Staffordshire, wliere he collected all the force he could,
to stop their farther inroads into the kingdom.
Liverpool had not been behind London in spirit and loyalty. The
inliabitants contributed largely in assisting the royal army, at this incle-
ment season, with warm clothing, and raised several companies "of armed
men, which were called the Royal Liverpool Blues. Some of the advanced
parties of rebels having appeared in sight of the town, every preparation
was made to resist them ; but, finding at length that the Pretender bent
his march by another route for Manchester, the Liverpool Blues marched
in order to destroy the bridges, and thereby impede their progress.
Notwithstanding these impediments, the rebels crossed the Mersey at
different fords, through which the Pretender waded breast-high in water.
Their numbers could not be accurately ascertained, their march being
straggling and unequal, but about ninethousand appeared to be the aggregate.
Their train of artillery consisted of sixteen field-pieces of three and four
pound shot, two carriages of gunpowder, a number of covered waggons,
and about one hundred horses, laden with ammunition. Their van-guard
consisted of about two hundred cavalry, badly mounted, the horses appearing
poor and jaded. The Pretender himself constantly marched on foot, at
the head of two regiments, one of which was appropriated as his body-
guard. His dress was a light plaid, belted about with a sash of blue silk :
he wore a grey wig, with a blue bonnet, and a white rose in it, and
appeared very dejected at this time. His followers were ordinary, except
the two regiments mentioned, which appeared to have been picked out of
the whole. The arms of the others were very indifferent. Some had
gims, others only pistols, the remainder broad-swords and targets. In
order to deceive the Duke of Cumberland, all sorts of reports as to the
future route of the rebels were sent abroad, but the King's troops were
concentrated at Northampton, a spot well suited for the purpose, as it was
the road which it was most probable would be taken, in the event of the
Pretender advancing upon London, which was known to be his real
intention. Meanwhile the rebels appeared unconscious of the danger tliey
were bringing upon themselves by delay, and they remained during a
considerable time endeavouring to raise recruits. They at lengtli, however,
set forward on their march southwards, but they had not advanced more
than a mile before they halted, held a consultation, wheeled round, and
retraced their steps to Derby. Having there seized all the plunder they
could lay their hands upon, they passed en, seeking to regain Scotland,
fthere they had learned that their friends had been joined by some French
troops. The Duke of Cumberland, in the mean time, being aware of their
fiight, followed them with all speed, and learning that they had been com-
pelled to halt at Preston, from excessive weariness, he redoubled his efforts to
come up Avitli them. By forced marches, travelling through ice and snow,
he succeeded in reaching Preston in three days, but he found that his
game had retired about four hours before him. The Pretender soon learned
that the excesses, of which his men had been guilty in tlieir southward
march, were not to go unpunished, and wherever he went he found liimself
opposed and harassed by the enraged country people, wlio lost no oppor-
tunity of annoying him in his retreat, and of seizing the stragglers from hia
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. Ill
army. At length, however, after repeated forced marches the Duke of
Cumberland came up with his antagonists at Lowther Hall ; and the latter
dreading his approach, immediately threw themselves into the village of
Clifton, three miles from Penryth. They were there attacked most
vigorously and successfully by the dragoons, who had dismounted, and in
about an hour's time they were driven away from tlie post which they
occupied. They retreated forthwith to Carlisle, which was still in their
possession ; but the continued advance of the royal troops induced them
again to retire, leaving only a garrison to oppose the entry of the Duke
into that city. The besieged fired upon their assailants with great fury,
but did little execution ; and at length a battery having been raised against
them, they sent out a flag of truce, and surrendered upon terms that they
should not be put to the sword, but reserved for the king's pleasure, and
thus Carlisle was once more taken possession of by the troops of his
majesty.
The army of rebels made the best of their way now to Glasgow, where
they levied contributions, and thence to Stirling, which was in possession
of the English, and was commanded by the gallant General Blakeney.
The gates could not be defended, and they therefore marched in, and
summoned the garrison to surrender ; but the veteran commander answered
that " he would perish in its ruins rather than make terms with rebels."
In the river of the town were two English men-of-war ; and the rebels, in
order to pi-event their going farther up, erected a battery, but the ships
soon destroyed it, and caused them to retreat a mile, where they erected
another, but did little execution. They now prepared for a vigorous
attack upon the castle, got some heavy pieces of ordnance across the
Forth, erected a battery against it, and called in all their forces. General
Blakeney fired upon them, and repeatedly drove them from their works.
General Hawley, in aid of his brother general, at the head of such troops
as he could form in order of battle, marched to attempt to raise the siege ;
but the rebels made a desperate attack, and, aided by accident, obtained
the advantage. Repeated skirmishes subsequently took place, but at
length this system of warfare, so destructive to the general state of the
country, was terminated by the decisive victory gained by the Duke of
Cumberland, at tlie head of the Royal forces, at the battle of Culloden.
The Pretender, at the head of his army, opposed the Duke, and the
following, taken from the London Gazette, is the conqueror's account of
the battle : —
" On Tuesday the 15th of April the rebels burnt Fort Augustus, which
convinced us of their resolution to stand an engagement with the King's
troops. We gave our men a day's halt at Nairn, and on the IGth marched
from thence, between four and five, in four columns. The three lines of
foot (reckoning the reserve for one) were broken into three from the right,
which made the three columns equal, and each of five battalions. The
artillery and baggage followed the first column upon the right, and the
cavalry made the fourth column on the left. After we had marched about
eight miles, our advanced guard, composed of about forty of Kingston's,
and the Highlanders, led by the quarter-master-general, perceived the
rebels at some distance, making a motion towards us on the left, upon
which we immediately formed ; but finding the rebels were still a good
way from us, we put ourselves again upon our march in our former
112 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
posture, and continued it to within a mile of them, where we formed in tne
same order as before. After reconnoitring their situation, we found them
posted behind some old walls and Iiuts, in a line with Culloden House.
As we thought our right entirely secure, General Hawley and General
Bland went to the left with two regiments of dragoons, to endeavour to
fall upon the right flank of the rebels ; and Kingston's horse was ordered
to the reserve. The ten pieces of cannon were disposed, two in each of
the intervals of the first line ; and all our highlanders (except 140, which
were upon the left with General Hawley, and who behaved extremely
well) were left to guard the baggage. When we were advanced within
oOO yards of the rebels, we found the morass upon our right was ended,
which left our right flank quite uncovered to them ; his Royal Highness
thereupon immediately ordered Kingston's horse from the reserve, and a
little squadron of about sixty of Cobham's, which had been patroUinor, to
cover our ilank. We spent about half an hour after that, trying which
should gain the flank of the other ; and his Royal Highness having sent
Lord Bury forward within a hundred yards of the rebels, to reconnoitre
something that appeared like a battery to us, they thereupon began firinor
their cannon, which was extremely ill-pointed and ill-served; ours answered
them, which began their confusion. They then came running on, in their
wild manner, and upon the right, where his Royal Highness had placed
himself, imagining the greatest push would be there, they came down
three several times within a yard of our men, firing their pistols, and
brandishing their swords ; but the Royals and Pulteney's hardly took
their firelocks from their shoulders, so that after those first attempts they
made off, and the little squadrons on our right were sent to pursue them
General Hawley had, by the help of our Highlanders, beat down two littl
stone walls, and came in upon the right flank of their second line. As their
whole body came down to attack at once, their right somewhat outflanked
Burrel's regiment, which was our left ; and the greatest part of the little
loss we sustained was there ; but Bligh's and Sempil's giving a fire upon
those who had outflanked Burrel's, soon repulsed them ; and Burrel's
regiment, and the left of Monro's, fairly beat them with their bayonets.
There was scarce a soldier or ofiicer of Burrel's, and of that part of ^Monro's
which engaged, who did not kill one or two men each with their bayonets
and spontoons. * The cavalry, which had charged from the right and
left, met in the centre, except two squadrons of dragoons, which we missed,
and they were gone in pursuit of tlie runaways. Lord Ancram was
ordered to pursue with the horse as far as he could ; and did it with so
good effect that a very considerable number was killed in the pursuit. As
we were on our march to Inverness, and were nearly arrived there, Major-
General Bland sent the annexed papers, which he received from the French
officers and soldiers, surrendering themselves prisoners to his Royal High-
ness. Major-General Bland had also made great slaughter, and took
about fifty French oflicers and soldiers prisoners in his pursuit. By the
best calculation that can be made, it is thought the rebels lost two thousand
men upon the field of battle and in the pursuit. We have here one hundred
and twenty-two French and three hundred and twenty-six rebel prisoners.
Lieutenant-Colonel Howard killed an officer, who appeared to be Lord
Strathallan, by the seal and different commissions from the Pretender
* The officers' half-pikes.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 113
found in his pocket. It is said Lord Perth, Lords Nairn, Lochiel, Kep]»ock,
and Appin Stuart, are also killed. All their artillery and ammunition
were taken, as well as the Pretender's, and all their baggage. There were
also twelve colours taken. All the generals, officers, and soldiers, did their
utmost duty in his Majesty's service, and showed the greatest zeal and
bravery on this occasion. The Pretender's son, it is said, lay at Lord
Lovat's house at Aird the niolit after the action. Brigadier Mordaunt is
detached with nine hundred volunteers this morning into the Frasers'
country, to attack all the rebels he may find there. Lord Sutherland's
and Lord Reay's people continue to exert themselves, and have taken
upwards of one hundred rebels, who are sent for ; and there is great reason
to believe Lord Cromartie and his son are also taken. The Monroes have
killed fifty of the rebels in their flight. As it is not known where the
greatest bodies of them are. or which way they have taken in their flight,
his Royal Highness has not yet determined which way to march. On
the 17th, as his Royal Highness Avas at dinner, three officers, and about
sixteen of Fitz- James's regiment, who were mounted, came and surrendered
themselves prisoners. The killed, wounded, and missing, of the King's
troops, amoimt to above three hundred. The French officers will be all
sent to Carlisle, till his Majesty's pleasure shall be known. The rebels,
by their own accounts, make their loss greater by two thousand men than
we have stated it. Four of their principal ladies are in custody, viz. Lady
Ogilvie, Lady Kinloch, Lady Gordon, and the Laird of M'Intosh's wife.
Major Grant, the governor of Inverness, is retaken, and the Generals
Hawley, Lord Albemarle, Huske, and Bland, have orders to inquire into
the reasons for his surrendering of Fort George. Lord Cromartie, Lord
M'Leod his son, with other prisoners, are just brought in from Suther-
land, by the Hound sloop, which his Royal Highness has sent for them ;
and they are just now landing."
Soon after this affair, several other rebel chiefs were taken into
custody; and on the 28th July 1746, at about eight o'clock in the
morning, the rebel lords were taken from the Tower to Westminster Hall,
to be tried by their peers. The Eai'l of Kilmarnock and the Earl of
Cromartie pleaded guilty ; but Lord Balmerino having denied the oft'ence
imputed to him, six witnesses were called, by whom his guilt was clearly
established, and a verdict was returned accordingly. On the 1st August
the peers were brought up for judgment, when the Lord High Steward
pronounced sentence of death, in terms very like those used in the case of
Earl Cowper, after the former rebellion.
Great interest being exerted to save the earls, it was hinted to Balme-
rino that his friends ought to exert themselves in his behalf ; to which,
with great magnanimity, he only replied : " I am very indiff^erent about my
own fate ; but had the two noble earls been my friends, they woiild have
squeezed my name in among theirs."
The Countess of Cromartie, who had a very large family of young chil-
dren, was incessant in her applications for the pardon of her husband ; to
obtain which she took a very plausible method : she procured herself to be
introduced to the late Princess of Wales, attended by her children in
mourning, and urged her suit in the most suppliant terms. The princess
had at that time several children. Such an argument couM scarcely fail to
move ; and a pardon was granted to Lord Cromartie on the condition tliat
VOL. I. Q
114 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
he should never reside north of the river Trent. This condition wis
literally complied with ; and his lordship died in Soho-square in the year
1766.
On the 18th of August 1746, at six o'clock in the morning, a troop of
life-guards, one of horse-grenadiers, and one thousand of the foot-guards,
marched from the parade in St. .James's Park, through the city to Towei*-
hill, to attend the execution of the Earl of Kilmarnock and Lord Balmerino;
and being arrived there, were posted in lines from the Tower to the scaffold,
and all round it. About eight o'clock the sheriffs of London, with their
under-sheriffs and officers, met at the J\litre tavern, in Fenchurch-street,
where they breakfasted ; and went from thence to the house lately the
Transport Office, Tower-hill, where they remained until the necessary pre-
parations for the execution were made. At eleven o'clock they demanded
the bodies of the peers of the constable of the Tower, and they were directly
brought forth in procession, followed by mourning-coaches and two hearses.
The lords were conducted into separate apartments in the house, facing
the steps of the scaffold, their friends being admitted to see them. The
Earl of Kilmarnock was attended by the Rev. Mr. Foster, a dissenting
minister, and the Rev. Mr. Hume, a near relation of the Earl of Hume.
The chaplain of the Tower and another clergyman of the church of England
accompanied the Lord Balmerino. The latter, on entering the door of the
house, hearing several of the spectators ask eagerly, " Which is Lord
Balmerino?" answered, smiling, "I am Lord Balmerino, gentlemen, at
your service." The parlour and passage of the house, the rails enclosing
the way from thence to the scaffold, and the rails about it, were all hung
with black at the sheriffs' expense. Lord Kilmarnock, in the apartment
allotted to him, spent about an hour in his devotions with Mr. Foster, who
assisted him with prayer and exhortation. After which. Lord Balmerino,
pursuant to his request, was admitted to confer with the earl.
After a short conversation relating to some report as to the Pretender's
orders at the battle of Culloden, they separated, the Lord Balmerino
saluting the noble earl with the same high-minded courtesy which had
been before remarked in him. The Earl of Kilmarnock then joined in
prayer with those around him, and afterwards he took some refreshment.
He expressed a wish tliat Lord Balmerino should go to the scaffold first ;
but being informed that this was impossible, as he was named first in the
warrant, he immediately acquiesced in the arrangement which had been
made, and with his friends proceeded to the place of execution. There was
an immense crowd collected, and on their seeing him they exhibited the
greatest commiseration and pity. The earl being struck with the variety
of dreadful objects which presented themselves to him at once, exclaimed to
Mr. Hume, " This is terrible ! but he exhibited no sign of fear, nor did he
^ven change countenance or tremble in his voice. After putting up a short
prayer, concluding with a petition for his majesty King George and the
royal family, his lordship embraced and took leave of his friends. The
executioner was so affected by the awfulness of the scene, that on his
asking pardon of the prisoner, he burst into tears. The noble earl, how-
ever, bid him take courage, and presenting him with five guineas, told him
that he would drop his handkerchief as a signal to him to strike. He then
proceeded, with the help of his gentlemen, to make ready for the block, by
takiag off his coat, and the bag from his hair, which was then tucked up
k
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 115
under a napkin cap. His neck being laid bare, tucking down the collar of
his shirt and waistcoat, he kneeled down on a black cushion at the block,
and drew his cap over his eyes ; and in doing this, as well as in putting up
his hair, his hands were observed to shake. Either to support himself, or
for a more convenient posture of devotion, he happened to lay both his
hands upon the block, which the executioner observing, prayed his lord-
ship to let them fall, lest they should be mangled or break the blow. He
was then told that the neck af his waistcoat was in the way, upon which
lie rose, and with the help of a friend, took it off; and the neck being made
bare to the shoulders, he kneeled down as before. In the mean time, when
all things were ready for the execution, and the black baize which hung
over the rails of the scaffold had, by direction of the colonel of the guard,
or the sheriffs, been turned up, that the people might see all the circum-
stances of the execution, in about two minutes after he kneeled down, his
lordship dropped his handkerchief, and the executioner at once severed his
head from his body, except only a small part of the skin, which was imme-
diately divided by a gentle stroke. The head was received in a piece of red
baize, and, with the body, immediately put into the coffin. The scaffold
was then cleared from the blood, fresh sawdust strewed, and that no
appearance of a former execution might remain, the executioner changed
such of his clothes as appeared bloody.
While tliis was doing, the Lord Balmerino, after having solemnly recom-
mended himself to the mercy of the Almiglity, conversed cheerfully with
his friends, refreshed himself twice with a bit of bread and a glass of wine,
and desired the company to drink to him, acquainting them that " he had
prepared a speech, which he should read on the scaffold, and therefore
should now say nothing of its contents." The under-sheriff" coming into
his lordship's apartment to let him know the stage was ready, he prevented
him by immediately asking if the affair was over with the Lord Kilmar-
nock ; and being answered, " It is," he inquired how the executioner had
performed his office. Upon receiving the account, he said it was well
done ; and then, addressing himself to the company, said, " Gentlemen, I
shall detain you no longer;" and with an easy unaffected cheerfulness,
saluted his friends, and hastened to the scaffold, which he mounted with so
unconstrained an aii" as astonished the spectators. His lordship was dressed
in his regimentals, (a blue coat turned up with red, trimmed with brass
buttons,) the same which he wore at the battle of Culloden. No circum-
stance in his whole deportment showed the least sign of fear or regret ; and
he frequently reproved his friends for discovering either upon his account.
He walked several times round the scaffold, bowed to the people, went to
his coffin, read the inscription, and, with a nod, said, " It is right." He
then examined the block, which he called his " pillow of rest." His lord-
ship, putting on his spectacles, and taking a paper out of his pocket, read it
with an audible voice : but so far from its being fiUed with passionate
invectives, it mentioned his majesty as a prince of the greatest magnani-
mity and mercy, at the same time that, through erroneous political prin-
ciples, it denied him a right to the allegiance of his people. Having
delivered this paper to the sheriff, he called for the executioner, and on his
being about to ask his lordship's pardon, he said, " Friend, you need not
ask me forgiveness, the execution of your duty is commendable." Upon
this his lordship gave him tliree guineas, saying. "• I never was rich ; this
lib THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
is all the money I have now ; I wish it was more, and I am sorry I can add
nothing to it but my coat and waistcoat ;" which he then took off, together
with iiis neckcloth, and threw them on his coffin, putting on a flannel
waistcoat which had been provided for the purpose ; and then taking a
plaid cap out of his pocket, he put it on his head, saying he died a Scotchman.
After kneeling down at the block to adjust his posture, and show the execu-
tioner the signal for the stroke, which was dropping his arms, be once more
gave a farewell look to his friends, and turning round on the crowd, said,
" Perhaps some may think my behaviour too bold ; but remember, sir,
(to a gentleman who stood near him,) that I now declare it is the effect
of a confidence in God, and a good conscience ; and I should dissemble if I
«howed any signs of fear."
Having observed the axe in the executioner's hand as he passed him, he
now took it from him, felt the edge, and, returning it, clapped the execu-
tioner on the shoulder to encourage him ; he even tucked down the collar
of his shirt and waistcoat, and showed him where to strike, desiring him to
do it resolutely, "for in that," says his lordship, " will consist your kindness."
He afterwards went to the side of the stage and called up the warder, of
whom he inquired which was his hearse, and ordered the man to drive
near, which was instantly done.
Immediately, without trembling or changing countenance, he again
kneeled down at the block, and having, with his arms stretched out, said,
" O Lord, reward my friends, forgive my enemies, and receive my soul," he
gave the signal by letting them fall. But his uncommon firmness and
intrepidity, with the unexpected suddenness of the signal, so surprised the
executioner, that though he struck the part directed, the blow was not
given with strength enough to wound him very deeply. It was observed
that he moved as if he made an effort to turn his head towards the execu-
tioner, and the under jaw fell, and returned very quick, like anger and
gnashing the teeth ; but this arose from the parts being convulsed, and a
second blow immediately succeeding the first, rendered him quite insensible
and a third finished the work.
His head was received in a piece of red baize, and, with his body, put
mto a coffin, which, at his particular request, together with that of the
Earl of Kilmarnock, was placed on that of the late ^Marquis of TuUibardine
(who died during his imprisonment,) in St. Peter's church in the Tower
all three lords lying in one grave.
MATTHEW HENDERSON.
EXECVTED FOR THE MURDER OF HIS MISTRESS, LADY DALRYMPLE.
This offender was the son of honest parents, and was born at North
Berwick, in Scotland, where he was educated in the liberal manner customary
in that country.
At tke age of fourteen years he was taken into the employment of Sir
Hugh Dalrymple, a member of the British parliament, whom he accom-
panied to London ; and it was while in his service that he was guilty of
the murder of his mistress. It appears that at the time at which he
committed this oti'ence he was in his twenti* th j ear, and having accidentally
THE NEAV iNEWGATE CALENDAR. 117
^ven offence to liis lady, by treading on her toe, she rebuked him in no
very gentle manner. Offended by the insult which he conceived he had
received, he determined to obtain a deep revenge ; and seeking an oppor-
tunity, during the absence of his master from London, he proceeded to put
his intention into execution by murdering his mistress.
For this offence he was brought to trial at the Old Bailey, on the 22d
April 1746, when he pleaded guilty, and was sentenced to be hanged on
the following Monday, the 25th of the same month. On the night before
his execution he made a confession of his crime, from which the following
particulars are taken : — Having called the Almighty to witness the truth
of his assertion, he proceeded to enter into a history of his early life,
alleging that he had always been well treated by his master and mistress,
for whom he entertained the most sincere respect. On the evening of the
25th March 1746, all the other servants having quitted the house, he
proceeded to bed in the apartment which was appropriated to his use.
He had pulled off his shoes, and had tied tip his hair with his garter,
when suddenly the thought came into his head that he would kill his
mistress. He directly went into the kitchen in search of an instrument to
effect his object, and he took a small iron cleaver ; but, returning to his
chamber, he sat during a period of twenty minutes, considering whether
he should commit the murder or not. His heart relented when he
remembered that his mistress had been so kind to him ; but then he
thought that there was no one in the house who could hear him, and he
determined upon perpetrating the deed. Impelled by a feeling which he
could not control, he rushed up stairs as far as the first landing-place, but
there he tarried, and in his alarm returned to his bed-room. Again he
felt determined upon the course which he had originally pi-oposed, and
again he had ascended the stairs on his way to his mistress's room, but
once more he felt irresolute. To use his own expression, he had now
determined not to commit the murder, but " the devil was so busy within
him," that, in an agony of emotion, he was unable to prevail against an
inward feeling, which drove him again towards his lady's room. Once
he retired, — but once again he advanced, — and he had now reached the
door, by which only he was separated from the object upon which he was
about to connnit the foul crime, of which in the sequel he was guilty.
Had that door been locked all would have been well, — but no, the latch
turned easily in his hand, and he stood within a yard of his victim. Still
be could not kill her, and in trepidation and alarm he crept back as far as
the stair-head. Again he felt the devil at w^ork, and once more he was
driven onwards to his fate. He entered the room a second time, and could
distinctly hear the respirations of the unfortunate lady ; he opened the
curtains softly, and fancied he could see the outline of her figure. Had
he had a light, he was convinced he could never have killed her. At
length, however, urged by an irresistible impulse, he raised the cleaver,
and yet, hesitating, he made as many as thirteen or fourteen motions in
the air before he could determine to strike her, — but then he let the
murderous instrument fall with redoubled force upon her head. The
unhappy lady attempted to escape, but without effect, for he followed up
the frightful wound which he had first inflicted with others still more
dreadful, until at last she sunk exhausted on the floor and died. The only
words which he heard her utter were — " Oh Lord ! what is this?" And
118 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
when she died, she rattled very much in the throat. He was so alarmed
at this that he ran down stairs, and threw the chopper in the privy ; and
when he had returned to his own room, the thought struck him that he
would rob the house. The idea had no sooner entered his head than he
resolved to put it into execution, and, striking a light, he returned to his
mistress's room. He took away some articles of jewellery from the drawers;
but while he was occupied in finding them, he fancied that he heard the
death-rattle still in his lady's throat, and he would have given the world
to have been able to recal what had passed.
When he had purloined all that he thought was of any value, he ran
out of the house ; and as he passed through Holborn, he heard tlie watch-
man cry " Past one o'clock," from which he knew that it was more than
an hour since he had first contemplated the murder. He concealed the
articles vrhich he had stolen in the lodgings of a female of his acquaintance,
and returned home ; but on his arrival at the door he found that he had
shut himself out. He waited until the maid-servant came at six o'clock
in the morning, and then, on their entering the house, appearances were
perceptible, which induced the girl to suppose that there had been some
strangers in the house. On her going up stairs she found that her mistress
had been murdered, and she directly conveyed information of the circum-
stance to the police, when Henderson being at once suspected, he was taken
into custody, and confessed his guilt.
The sentence was carried out in its terms ; and the body of the wretched
young man, after execution, was hung in chains in the Edgeware-road
CHARLES RATCLIFFE, ESQ.
EXECUTED FOR HIGH TREASON.
This gentleman was a party to the designs of the Jacobinical lords
whose execution we have detailed, and was taken by the Sea-horse frigate on
his passage to Scotland to join the rebel forces. He had been concerned in
the rebellion of 1715, and would then have been pardoned, but with fifteen
others he escaped out of Newgate, and went to France. He afterwards
lived in London, but was not molested ; but subsequently again joining the
design of the Pretender, and being seized, he was tried whether he was
the same person who had been before convicted, and was found to be the
same. He therefore received sentence of death, and was beheaded on
Tower-hill, on the 8th of December 1746. This prisoner was one of the
brothers of the Earl of Derwentwater, who was executed in 1 7 1 6, as before
detailed ; and they were the sons of Sir Francis Ratclifte, by Lady Mary
Tudor, natural daughter of Charles the Second, by Mrs. Mary Davis.
LORD LOVAT.
BEHEADED FOR HIGH TREASON.
This lord, who in 1715 had been a supporter of the House of Hanover,
in 1745 changed sides, and became a friend of the party which he had
before opposed.
His career in life began in the year 1692, when he was appointed a
captain in Lord TuUibardine's regiment, but he resigned his commission
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 119
in order to prosecute his claim to be the Chief of the Frasers ; in
order to ettect which, he laid a scheme to get possession of the heiress
of Lovat, who was about to be married to a son of Lord Salton. He
raised a clan, who violently seized the young lord, and, erecting a
gibbet, showed it to him and his fiither, threatening their instant
death unless they relinquished the contract made for the heiress of
Lovat. To this, fearing for their lives, they consented ; but still unable to
get possession of the young lady, he seized the dowager Lady Lovat in her
own house, caused a priest to marry them against her consent, cut her
stays open with his dirk, and, assisted by his ruffians, tore off her clothes,
forced her into bed, to which he followed her, and then called his companions
to witness the consummation of the outrageous marriagre. For this breach of
the peace he was indicted, but fled from justice ; but he was, nevertheless,
tried for a rape, and for treason, in opposing the laws with an armed force ;
and sentence of outlawry was pronounced against him. Having fled to
France, he turned papist, ingratiated himself with the Pretender, and was
rewarded by him with a commission ; but he was apprehended on the
remonstrance of the English ambassador in Paris, and lodged in the
Bastile, where having remained some years, he procured his liberty by
taking priest's orders, under colour of which he became a Jesuit in the
college of St. Omer's.
In the first rebellion of 1715 he returned to Scotland, and joining the
king's troops, assisted them in seizing Laverness from the rebels ; for which
service he got the title of Lovat, was appointed to command, and had other
favours conferred upon him. In the rebellion of which we are now treat-
ing, he turned sides, and joined the Pretender ; a step treacherous in the
extreme. When taken, he was old, unwieldy, and almost helpless ; although
in that condition he had been possessed of infinite resources to assist the
rebellion. He petitioned the Duke of Cumberland for mercy ; and, hoping
to work upon his feelings, recapitulated his former services, the favours
that he had received from the duke's grandfather. King George I., and
dwelt much upon his access to court, saying " he had carried him to whom
he now sued for life in his arms, and, when a baby, held him up, while his
grandsire fondled upon him."
On the 9th March 1747, however, he was taken from the Tower to
Westminster Hall for trial, and the evidence adduced clearly proving his
guilt to be of no ordinary character, he was convicted. He was next day
brought up for judgment, and sentence of death was pronounced.
That tliis sentence was not ill deserved, appears from a speech of Lord
Belhaven, delivered in the last parliament, held in Edinburgh in 1706, in
which his lordship, speaking of this nobleman, then Captain Fraser, on
occasion of the Scots plot, commonly called Eraser's plot, says " That he
deserved, if practicable, to have been hanged five several times, in five
different places, and upon five different accounts at least ; as having been
notoriously a traitor to the court of St. James's, a traitor to the court of
St. Germain's, a traitor to the court of Versailles, and a traitor to his own
country of Scotland ; in being not only an avowed and restless enemy to
the- peace and quiet of its established government and constitution, both
in church and state, but, likewise, a vile Proteus-like apostate, and a
seducer of others in point of religion, as the tide or wind changed : and,
moreover, that (abstracted from all those, his multiplied acts of treason,
120 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR
abroad and at home) lie deserved to be hanged as a condemned criminal,
outlaw, and fugitive, for the barbarous, cruel, and most flagitious rape, he
had, with the assistance of some of his vile and abominable band of ruffians,
violently committed on the body of a right honourable and virtuous lady,
the widow of the late Lord Lovat, and sister of his Grace the late Duke
of Athol. Nay, so hardened was Captain Fraser, that he audaciously
erected a gallows, and threatened to hang thereon one of the said lady's
brothers, and some other gentlemen of quality, who accompanied him in
goinor to rescue him out of that criminal's cruel hand."
On the morning fixed for his execution, 9th April 1747, Lord Lovat,
who was now in his 80th year, and very large and unwieldy in his person,
awoke at about three o'clock, and was heard to pray with great devotion.
At five o'clock he arose, and asked for a glass of wine and water, and at
eight o'clock, he desired that his wig might be sent, that the barber might
have time to comb it out genteelly, and he then provided himself with a
purse to hold the money which he intended for the executioner. At about
half-past nine o'clock he ate heartily of minced veal, and ordered that his
friends might be provided with cofiee and chocolate, and at eleven o'clock
the sheriti's came to demand his body. He then requested his friends to
retire while he said a short prayer ; but he soon called them back, and said
that he was ready.
At the bottom of the first pair of stairs. General Williamson invited
him into his room to rest himself, which he did, and, on his entrance, paid
his respects to the company politely, and talked freely. He desired of the
general, in French, that he might take leave of his lady, and thank her for
her civilities : but the general told his lordship, in the same language, that
she was too much aifected with his lordship's misfortunes to bear the shock
of seeing him, and tlierefore hoped his lordship would excuse her. He then
took his leave, and proceeded. At the door he bowed to the spectators,
and was conveyed from thence to the outer gate in the governor's coach,
where he was delivered to the sheriffs, who conducted him in another
coach to the house near the scaffold, in which was a room lined with black
cloth, and hung with sconces, for his reception. His friends were at first
denied entrance ; but, upon application made by his lordship to the sheriffs
for their admittance, it was granted. Soon after, liis lordship, addressing
himself to the sheriffs, thanked them for the favour, and, taking a paper
out of his pocket, delivered it to one of them, saying he should make no
speech, and that they might give the word of command when they pleased.
A gentleman present beginning to read a prayer to his lordship while he
was sitting, he called one of the warders to help him up, that he might
kneel. He then prayed silently a short time, and afterwards sat again in
his chair. Being asked by one of the sheriffs if lie would refresh himself
with a glass of wine, he declined it, because no warm water could be had
to mix with it, and took a little burnt brandy and bitters in its stead. He
requested that his clothes might be delivered to his friends with his corpse,
and said for that reason he should give the executioner ten guineas. He
also desired of the sheriffs that his head might be received in a cloth, and
put into the coffin, which the sheriffs, after conferring with some gentlemen
present, promised should be done ; as also that the holding up the head at
the corners of the scaffold should be dispensed with, as it had been of late
years at the execution of lords. When his lordship was going up the steps
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 121
to the scaffold, assisted by two warders, he looked round, and, seeing so
great a concourse of people, " God save us," says lie, " why should there
be such a bustle about taking off an old grey head, that cannot get up
4hree steps without three bodies to supjwrt it?"
Turnino- about, and observing one of his friends much dejected, he
clapped him on the shoulder, saying, " Cheer up thy heart, man ! I am not
afraid ; why sliould you be so ?" As soon as he came upon the scaffold,
he asked for the executioner, and presented him with ten guineas in a
purse, and then, desiring to see the axe, he felt the edge, and said, " he
believed it would do." Soon after, he rose from the chair which was placed
for him, and looked at the inscription on his coffin, and on sitting down
again, he repeated from Horace,
" Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori ; "
and afterwards from Ovid,
"■ Nam genus et proavos, et quae noii fecimus ipsi,
Vix ea nostra voco " —
He then desired all the people to stand off, except his two warders, who
supported his lordship while he said a prayer ; after which, he called liis
solicitor and agent in Scotland, Mr. W. Fraser, and, presenting his gold-
headed cane, said, " I deliver you this cane in token of my sense of your
faithful services, and of my committing to you all the power I have upon
earth," and then embraced him. He also called for Mr. James Fraser, and
said, " My dear James, I am going to heaven ; but you must continue to
crawl a little longer in this evil world." And, taking leave of both, he
delivered his hat, wig, and clothes, to Mr. William Fraser, desiring him
to see that the executioner did not touch them. He ordered his cap to be
put on, and, unloosing his neckcloth and the collar of his shirt, kneeled
down at the block, and pulled the cloth which was to receive his head
close to him. But, being placed too near the block, the executioner desired
him to remove a little further back, wliich, with the warders' assistance,
was immediately done ; and, his neck being properly placed, he told the
executioner he would say a short prayer, and then give the signal by
dropping his handkerchief, in this posture he remained about half a
minute, and then, throwing his handkerchief on the floor, the executioner
at one blow cut off" his head, which was received in the cloth, and, with his
body, was put into the coffin, and carried in a hearse back to the Tower,
where it was interred near the bodies of the other lords.
His lordship professed himself a papist, and, at his request, was attended
by Mr. Baker, attached to the chapel of the Sardinian ambassador ; and
though he insisted nuich on the services he had done the royal family in 1715,
yet he declared, but a few days before his death, that he had been concerned
in all the schemes formed for restoring the house of Stuart since he was
fifteen years old.
This nobleman's ixitellectual powers seem to have been considerable, and
his learning extensive. He spoke Latin, French, and English, fluently,
and other modern languages intelligibly. He studied at Aberdeen, and
disputed his philosophy in Greek ; and, though he was educated a pro-
testant, yet, after three years' study of divinity and controversy, he turned
papist. He maintained an appearance of that facetious disposition for
which he was remarkable, to the last ; and seems to have taken great
VOL. I. R
122 THE NEW NEWGATE CAIiENDATl.
pains to quit the stage, not only with decency, but with that dignity
wliich is thought to distinguish the good conscience and the noble mind.
The following lines upon the execution of these noblemen are said tc
have been repeated with great energy by Dr. Johnson, although there
appears to be no ground for supposing that they were the Doctor's own com-
position. They first appeared in the Gentleman's Magazine :
" Pitied by gentle minds, Kilmarnock died ;
The brave, Balmeiino, were on thy side ;
Ratcliffe, unhappy in his crimes of youth,
Steady in what he still mistook for truth,
Beheld his deatli so decently unmoved,
The soft lamented, and the brave approved.
But Lovat's end indifferently we view,
True to no king, to no religion true :
No fair forgets the ruin he has done ;
No child laments the tyrant of his son ;
No Tory pities, thinking what lie was ;
No Whig compassions, for he left the cause ;
The brave regret not, for he was not brave ,
The honest mourn not, knowing him a knave."
FEANCIS TOAYNLEY, JAMES DAWSON, AND OTHERS.
EXECUTED FOR HIGH TREASOX.
These prisoners were parties to the same plot, and all of them held ranks in
the Pretender's anuy. Dawson had paid addresses to a young lady, to whom
he was to have been married immediately after his enlargement, if the solici-
tations thatweremade for his pardonhad been attended with the desired effect.
The circumstance of his love, and the melancholy that was produced by
his death, are so admirably treated in the following ballad of Shenstone,
that Dawson's story will probably be remembered and regretted when that
of the rest of the rebels will be forgotten,
JEMMY DAWSON t A BALLAD.
Come listen to my mournful tale,
Ye tender hearts and lovers dear,
Nor will you scorn to heave a sigh,
Nor will you blush to shed a tear.
And thou, dear Kitty, peerless maid.
Do thou a pensive ear incline ;
For canst thou weep at every woe.
And pity every 'plaint, but mine?
Young Dawson was a gallant youth,
A lighter never trod the plain ;
And well he loved one charming maid,
And dearly was he loved again.
One tender maid, she loved him dear,
Of gentle blood the damsel came ;
And faultless was her beauteous form,
And spotless was her virgin fame.
But curse on parties' hateful strife.
That led the ftiithful youth asti-ay !
Tiie day the rebel clans appear' d —
(Oh ! had he never seen tliat day !)
THE NEAV NEAVGATE CALENDAR. 123
Tlieir colours and their sash he wore,
And in their fatal dress was found ;
And now he must that death endure
Which gives the brave the keenest wound.
TTow pale was then his true-love's cheek
When Jemmy's sentence reach'd her ear !
For never yet did Alpine snows
So pale nor yet so chill, appear.
" Yet, might sweet mercy find a place,
And bring relief to Jemmy's woes,
O George ! without a prayer for thee
My orisons should never close.
" The gracious prince that gives him life
Would crown a never-dying flame ;
And every tender babe I bore
Should learn to lisp the giver's name.
" But though, dear youth, thou shouldst be drasf'i
To yonder ignominious tree,
Thou shall not want a faithful friend
To share thy bitter fate vvith thee."
O, then her mourning- coach was call'd ;
The sledge moved slowly on before ; —
Though borne in a triumphal car.
She had not loved her favourite more.
She follow'd him, prepared to view
The terrible behests of law ;
And the last scene of Jemmy's woes,
With calm and steadfast eyes she saw.
Distorted was that blooming face
Which she had fondly loved so long.
And stifled was that tuneful breath
Which in her praise had sweetly sung;
And sever'd was that beauteous neck
Round which her arms had fondly closed :
And mangled was that beauteous breast
On which her love-sick head reposed ; —
And ravish'd was that constant heart
She did to every heart prefer ;
For. though it could his king forget,
'Twas true and loyal still to her.
Amidst those unrelenting flames
She bore this constant heart to see ;
But, when 'twas moulder'd into dust,
"Yet, yet," she cried, " I'll follow theei
" My death, my death, can only show
The pure and lasting love I bore :
Accept, O Heaven ! of woes like ours.
And let us — let us weep no more."
The dismal scene was o'er and past.
The lover's mournful hearse retired ;
The maid drew back her languid head,
And, sighing forth his name, expired.
Though justice ever must prevail,
The tear my Kitty sheds is due ;
For seldom shall we hear a tale
So sad, so tender, and so true.
\94 THE NEW NEAVGATE CALENDAR.
Tliese offenders were hanged on Kennlngton Common. They had not
hunof above five minutes when Townley was cut down, being yet alive:
and his body being placed on the block, the executioner chopped off his
head witli a cleaver. His heart and bowels were then taken out, and
thrown into the fire ; and the other parties being separately treated in the
same manner, the executioner cried out, " God save King George !"
The bodies were quartered, and delivered to the keepers of the New Jail,
who buried them : the heads of some of the parties were sent to Carlisle
and jNlanchester, where they were exposed ; but those of Townley and
another were fixed on Temple Bar, and after remaining some time, fell dov«i.
It would be useless to attempt to enumerate the other persons whose
crimes and misfortunes at this time consigned them to the gibbet ; but some
account of the escape of the Pretender may not be uninteresting. It would
appear that the battle of Culloden having decided the fate of his causa
w^here the Pretender had his horse shot imder him by one of the king's
troopers as he was endeavouring to rally his soldiers, he retired to the house
of a factor of Lord Lovat, at about ten miles from Inverness, where he met
with that lord and supped with him. After supper he started on his
journey to Fort Augustus, and next day went on to Invergarry, A boy,
whom he found there caught him a salmon and he dined, and afterwards
waited for some of his troops, who had promised to meet him there. Being
disappointed, however, in his object, he proceeded to Lockharciage, and
he arrived there on the 18th of April, at about two in the morning, and
slept, but at five he set out on foot, and travelled through the Glen of
Morar, where he arrived at four the next morning. He reached Arrashag
in twelve hours after, and was there joined by Captain O'Xeil on the 27th,
who informed him that his cause was hopeless, and recommended him,
therefore, to sail at once for France. One Donald I\I'Leod was engaged to
hire a ship, and on tlie 28th the Chevalier went on board an eight-oared
boat, in company with Sullivan and O'Neil, ordering the people who
belono-edto the boat to make the best haste they could to Stornoway, where
it was proposed they should take ship. The night proving very tem-
pestuous, thev all begged of him to go back, which he would not do ; but
to keep up the spirits of the people, he sang them a Highland song. The
weather growing worse and worse, about seven in the morning of the 29th,
thev were driven on shore on a point of land called Rushness, in the island
of Benbecula, where, when they got on shore, the Pretender helped to make a
fire to warm the crew, who were almost starved to death with cold. On the
30th, at six in the evening, they set sail again for Stornoway, but meeting with
another storm, were obliged to put into the island of Scalpa, in the Harris,
where they all went on shore to a farmer's house, passing for merchants that
vere ship\\Tecked in tlieirvoyage to the Orkneys: the Pretender and Sullivan
going by the name of Sinclair, the latter passing for the father, and the
former for his son. They thought proper to send from thence to Stornoway,
with instructions to freight a ship for the Orkneys ; and on the 3d of 3Iay they
x-eceived a message that a ship was ready. On the 4th they set out for that
place, where they arrived on the 5th about noon, but meeting with their
messenger, Donald 31'Leod, they found that he had got into company, and
told a friend of his for whom he had hired the ship ; upon whicli tliere were
two hundred people in arms at Stornoway,up()n a report that the Pretender
was landed with five hundred men, and was coming to burn the town; so that
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 125
they were obliged to lie all nignt upon the moor, witli no other refreshment
than biscuit and brandy. On the 6th they resolved to go in the eiglit-
oared boat to the Orkneys ; but the crew refused to venture, so that they
were obliged to steer south along the coast-side, where they met with two
English ships ; and this compelled them to put into a desert island, where
they remained till the 10th, without any provision but some salt fish they
found upon the place. About ten in the morning of that day they
embarked for the Harris, and at break of day on the ilth tliey were
chased by an English vessel, but made their escape among the rocks.
About four in the afternoon they arrived on theisland of Benbecula, where they
remained till the l4th, and then they set out for the mountain of Currada, in
South Uist, where they staid till the militia of the Isle of Skye came to the
island of Irasky. They now sailed for the island of Uia, where they remained
three nights, till, having intelligence that the militia were coming towards
Benbecula, they immediately got into their boat, and sailed for Lochbus-
dale. Being met, however, by some ships of war, they were obliged to
return to Lochagnart, and at night sailed for Lochbusdale ; upon arriving
at which place they staid eight days on a rock, making a tent of the sail
of the boat. They found themselves here in a most dreadful situation ;
for, having intelligence that Captain Scott had landed at Kilbride, they
were obliged to separate, and the Pretender and O'Neil went to the
mountains, wliere they remained all night, and soon after were informed
that General Campbell was at Bernary ; so that now they had forces very
near on both sides of them, and were absolutely at a loss wliich way to
move. In their road they met with a young lady, one Miss M'Donald,
to whom Captain O'Neil proposed assisting the Pretender to make his
escape, which at first she refused ; but, upon his oflFering to put on women's
clothes, she consented, and desired them to go to the mountain of Currada
till she sent for them. They accordingly there staid two days ; but
hearing nothing from tlie young lady, the Pretender concluded slie would
not keep her word, and therefore resolved to send Captain O'Neil to
General Campbell, to let him know he was willing to surrender to him ;
but about five o'clock in the evening a message came from the young lady,
desiring them to meet her at Rushness. Being afraid to pass by the Ford,
because of the militia, they luckily fovind a boat, which carried them to
the other side of Uia, where they remained part of the next day, afraid of
being seen by the country people. In the evening they set out for Rush-
ness, and arrived there at twelve at night ; but not finding the young lady,
and being alarmed by a boat full of militia, they were obliged to retire two
miles back, where the Pretender remained on a moor till O'Neil went to
the young lady, and prevailed upon her to come to the place appointed at
night-fall of the next day. About an hour after, they had an account of
General Campbell's arrival at Benbecula, which obliged them to move to
another part of the island, where, as the day broke, they discovered four
sail close on the shore, making directly up to the place where they were ;
so that there was nothing left for them but to throw themselves
among the heath. When the wherries were gone, they resolved to go to
Clanronald's house ; but when they were within a mile of it, they heard
General Campbell was there, which forced them to, retreat again. The
young Pretender having at length, with the assistance of Captain O'Neil,
found IMiss M'Donald in a cottage near the place appointed, it was there
determined that he should put on women's clothes and pass for her waiting-
126 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
maid. This being done, he took leave of Sullivan and O'Neil with great
regret, who departed to shift for themselves, leaving him and his new
mistress in the cottage, where they continued some days, during which she
cured him of the itch. Upon intelligence that General Campbell was
gone further into the country, they removed to her cousin s, and spent the
night in preparing for their departure to the Isle of Skye : and they set out
the next morning for that place, with only one man-servant, named M'-Lean,
and two rowers. During their voyage they were pursued by a pmall
vessel ; but a thick fog rising, they arrived safe at midnight in that island,
and landed at the foot of a rock, where the lady and her maid waited while
iier man IM'Lean went to see if Sir Alexander M'Donald was at home.
M'Lean found his way thither, but lost it in returning ; and his mistress
and her maid, after in vain expecting him the whole night, were obliged
in the morning to leave the rock, and go in the boat up the creek to some
distance, to avoid the militia which guarded the coast. They went on
shore again about ten o'clock, and, attended by the rowers, inquired the
way to Sir Alexander's. When they had gone about two miles, they met
M'Lean ; and he told his lady that Sir Alexander was with the Duke of
Cumberland, but his lady was at home, and would do them all the service
she could. They then immediately discharged their boat, and went directly
to the house, where they remained two days, being always in her ladyship's
chamber, except at night, to prevent a discovery. But a party of the
M'Leods, having intelligence that some strangers were arrived at Sir
Alexander's, and knowing his lady to be well affected to the Pretender,
came thither, and demanding to see the new-comers, were introduced to
]\Iiss's chamber, where she sat with her new maid. The latter, hearing
the militia were at the door, had the presence of mind to get up and open
it, which occasioned his being the less noticed ; and after they had narrowly
searched the chests, they withdrew. The inquiry, however, alarmed the
youncr lady, and the next day she sent her apparent maid to a steward of
Sir Alexander's : but hearing that his being in the island was known, he
removed to Macdonald's, at Kingsborough, ten miles distant, where he
remained but one day ; for on receiving intelligence that it was rumoured
that he was disguised in a woman's habit, JIacdonald furnished him with
a suit of his own clothes, and he went in a boat to M'Leod's at Raza. No
prospect of escaping to France, however, presented itself there, and he
returned to the Isle of Skye, being thirty miles, with no attendant but a
ferryman, IM'Leod assuring him that the elder Laird of Mackinnon would
there render him all the service in his power. On his reaching M'Kinnon's,
the old man instantly knew him, and advised him to go to Lochaber ;
and he accordinoly proceeded thither in a vessel procured for that pur-
pose. M'Donald, at the head of one hundred resolute Highlanders, then
appeared to assist him, and after roving about with them from place to
place, he at length removed to Badenoch. He was there very much
harassed by the King's troops, and losing many of his men in the skirmishes
which daily took place, they were at length obliged to disperse ; and the
Pretender, with Lochiel of Barrisdale and some others, skulked about
m Moidart. Here they received information that two French privateers
were at anchor in Lochnanaugh, in one of which, L'Heureux^ this unfortu-
nate prince eventually embarked, with twenty-three gentlemen, and one
nundred and seven soldiers, and soon after arrived safely in Franco.
I
THE NEAV NEWGATE CALENDAR. 127
WILLIAM YORK,
AGED TEN YEARS, CONVICTED OF MURDERING SUJiAN MAHEW, AGED FIVE YEARS.
This unhappy child was but ten years of age wlien he committed the
dreadful crime of which he was convicted. He was a pauper in the poor-
]iouse belonging to the parish of Eye, in Suffolk, and was committed, on
the coroner's inquest, to Ipswich jail, for the murder of Susan Mahew,
another child, of five years of age, who had been his bedfellow. The
following is his confession, taken by a justice of the peace, and which was, in
part, proved on the trial, with many corroborating circumstances of his guilt.
He said that a trifling quarrel happening between them on the 13th of
May 1748, about ten in the morning, he struck her with his open hand,
and made her cry : that she going out of the house to the dunghill, oppo-
site to the door, he followed her, with a hook in his hand, with an intent
to kill her ; but before he came up to her, he set down the hook, and went
into the house for a knife. He then came out again, took hold of the
girl's left hand, and cut her wrist all round to the bone, and then threw
her down, and cut her to the bone just above the elbow of the same arm.
That, after this, he set his foot upon her stomach, and cut her right arm
round about, and to the bone, both on the wrist and above the elbow.
That he still thought she would not die, and therefore took the hook and
cut her left thigh to the bone. His next care was to conceal the murder •
for which purjiose he filled a pail with water at a ditch, and washing the
blood ofP the child's body, buried it in the dunghill, together with the
blood that was spilled upon the child's clothes, and then went and got his
breakfast. When he was examined, he showed very little concern, and
appeared easy and cheerful. All he alleged was, that the child fouled the
bed in which they lay together ; that she was sulky, and that he did not
like her.
The boy was found guilty, and sentenced to death ; but he was respited
from time to time on account of his tender years, and at length pardoned.
BENJAMIN TAPNER, JOHN COBBY, JOHN HAMMOND
RICHARD MILLS, RICHARD MILLS THE YOUNGER, AND
OTHERS.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
We do not recollect ever to have heard of a case exhibiting greater
brutality on the part of the murderers towards their victim than this. The
oftenders were all smugglers, and the unfortunate objects of their crime were
a custom-house officer, and a shoemaker, named respectively William
Galley and Daniel Chater. It would appear that a daring and very exten
sive robbery having been committed at the custom-house at Poole, Galle)'
and Chater were sent to Stanstead in Sussex, to give some information to
Major Battine, a magistrate, in reference to the circumstance. They did
not, however, return to their homes, and on inquiry, it turned out that
they had been brutally murdered, the body of Galley being traced, by
means of bloodhounds, to be buried, while that of Chater was discovered
at a distance of six miles, in a well in Harris' AVood, near Leigh, in Lady
Holt's Park, covered up with a quantity of stones, wooden railings, and earth.
128 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
At a special commission held at Chichester, on the 16th of JaTuiary
1749, the prisoners Benjamin Tapner, John Cobby, John Hammond,
William Carter, Richard ]\Iills the elder, and Richard ]\Iills the younger,
were indicted for the murder of Daniel Chater ; the three first as principals,
and the others as accessories before the fact ; and "William Jackson and
William Carter were indicted for the murder of William Galley.
From the evidence adduced, the circumstances of this most horrid murder
were proved, and it appeared that the two deceased persons having passed
Havant on their road to Stanstead, went to the New Inn at Leigh, where they
met one Austin, and his brother and brother-in-law, of whom they asked the
road, and they conducted them to Rowland's Castle, where, they said, they
might obtain better information. They went into the White Hart, and
Mrs. Payne, the landlady, suspecting the object of their mission, sent for
the prisoners Jackson and Carter, and they were soon after joined by some
others of the gang. After they had been all sitting together. Carter called
Chater out, and demanded to know where Diamond, one of those suspected
of the robbery, was ? Chater replied that he was in custody, and that he
was soincr aofainst his will to give evidence against him. Galley, follow-
ing them into the yard, was knocked down by Carter, on his calling
Chater away, and they then returned in-doors. The smugglers now pre-
tended to be sorry for what had occurred, and desired Galley to drink some
rum, and they persisted in plying him and Chater with liquor until they
were both intoxicated. They were then persuaded to lie down and sleep,
and a letter to INIajor Battine, of which they were the bearers, was takei\
from them, read, and destroyed.
One John Royce, a smuggler, now came in, and Jackson and Carter told
him the contents of the letter, and said that they had got the old rogue,
the shoemaker of Fording-bridge, who was going to inform against John
Diamond, the shepherd, then in custody at Chichester. Here William
Steele proposed to take them both to a well about two hundred yards from
the house, and to murder and throw them in ; but this was rejected, and
after several propositions had been made as to the mode in which they
should be disposed of, the scene of cnielty was commenced by Jackson,
who, putting on his spurs, jumped upon the bed where they lay, and
spurred their foreheads, and then whipped them ; so that they both got up
bleeding. The smugglers then took them out of the house, and Mills
swore he would shoot any one who followed or said anything of what had
occurred.
Meanwhile, the rest put Galley and Chater on one horse, tied their legs
under the horse's belly, and then tied the legs of both together. They now
set forward, with the exception of Royce, who had no horse ; and they had
not gone above two hundred yards, before Jackson called out " Whip 'em,
cut 'em, slash 'em, d — n 'em!'' upon which, all began to whip except
Steele, who led the horse, the roads being very bad. They whipped then;
for half a mile, till they came to Woodash, where they fell off, with theii
heads under the horse's belly ; and their legs, which were tied, appeared
over the horse's back. Their tormentors soon set them upright again, and
continued whipping them over the head, face, shoulders, &c., till they came
to Dean, upwards of half a mile farther ; and here they both fell again a&
before, with their heads under the liorse's belly, which were struck at eveiy
step by the horse's hoofs.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 129
Upon placing them again in tlie saddle, the villains found them so weak
that they could not sit ; upon whicli they separated them, and put Galley
before Steele, and Chater before little Sam ; and then whipped Galley so
severely, that, the lashes coming upon Steele, at his desire they desisted.
They then went to Harris'-well, and threatened to throw Galley in ; but
wlien he desired that they would put an end to his misery at once, " No,"
said Jackson, " if that's the case, we have something more to say to you ;"
and they thereupon put him on the horse again, and whipped him over the
Downs until he was so weak that he fell off. They next laid him across
tlie horse, and little Sam, getting up behind him, subjected him to such
cruelty as made him groan with the most excruciating torments, and he
fell off again. Being again put up astride, Richards got up behind him ;
but the poor man soon cried out, " I fall, I fall," and Kichards pushed him
with force, saying, " Fall, and be d — d !" Tlie unhappy man then turned
over and expired ; and they threw the body over the horse, and carried it
off with them to the house of one Scardefield, who kept the Red Lion at
Rake. The landlord remarking the condition of Chater, a.-id Galley's
body, the fellows told him that they had engaged with some officers, had lost
their tea, and that some of them were wounded, if not dead. This was
sufficient, and Jackson and Carter carried Chater down to the house
of the elder Mills, where they chained him up in a turf -house. Their
companions, in the mean time, drank gin and brandy at Scardefield's, and
it being now nearly dark, they borrowed spades, and a candle and lantern,
and making him assist them in digging a hole, they buried the body of the
murdered officer. They then separated ; but on the Tlmrsday they met
again witli some more of their associates, including the pi-isoners Richard
]Mills, and his two sons Richard and John, Thomas Stringer, Cobby,
Tajiner, and Hammond, for the purpose of deliberating what should be
done with their prisoner. It was soon unanimously resolved that he must
be destroyed, and it was determined that they should take him to Harris'-
well and throw him in, as it was considered that that death would be
most likely to cause him the greatest pain.
During this time the wretched man was in a state of the utmost horror
and misery, being visited occasionally by all his tormentors, who abused
him, and beat him violently. At last, when this determination had been
arrived at, they all went, and Tapner pulling out a clasp-knife, ordered
him on his knees, swearing that he would be his butcher ; but being
dissuaded from this, as being opposed to their plan to prolong the miseries
of their prisoner, he contented himself with slashing the knife across his
eyes, almost cutting tliem out, and completely severing the gristle of his
nose. They then placed him upon a horse, and all set out together for
Harris'-well, except jMills and his sons, they having no horses ready, and
saying, in excuse, " that there were enough without them to murder one
man." All the way Tapuer whipped him till the blood came ; and then
swore that if he blooded the saddle, he would torture him the more. When
they were come within one hundred yards of the well, Jackson and
Carter stopped, saying to Tapner, Cobby, Stringer, Steele, and Hammond,
" Go on and do your duty on Chater, as we have ours upon Galley." It
was in the dead of the night that they brought their victim to the well,
which was nearly thirty feet deep, but dry, and paled close round : and
Tapner having fastened a noose round his neck, they bade him get over the
VOL.1. s
1-30 THE NEAV NEWGATE CALENDAR.
pales. He was going tliroiigh a broken place ; but tbongh he was covered
with blood and fainting with the anguish of his wounds, they forced him
to climb up, having the rope about his neck. They then tied one end of
the cord to the pales and pushed him over the brink ; but the rope being
short, he hung no farther within it than his thighs, and leaning against the
edge, he hung above a quarter of an hour and was not strangled. They
then untied him, and threw him head foremost into the well. They tarried
some time, and hearing him groan, they determined to go to one William
Comleah's, a gardener, to borrow a rope and ladder, saying they wanted to
relieve one of their companions who had fallen into Harris'- well. He said
they might take them ; but they could not manage the ladder in their
confusion, it being a long one. They then returned to the well ; and still
hearing him groan, and fearful that the sound might lead to a discovery,
the place being near the road, they threw upon him some of the rails
and gate-posts fixed about the well, as well as eome great stones ; and then
fmding him silent, they left him. Their next consultation was how to
dispose of their horses ; and they killed Galley's, which was grey, and
taking his hide off", cut it into small pieces, and hid them so as to prevent
any discovery ; but a bay horse that Chater had ridden on got from them.
This being the evidence produced, the jury, after being out of court
about a quarter of an hour, brought in a verdict of guilty against all the
prisoners : whereupon the judge pmnoimced sentence on the convicts in
a most pathetic address, representing the enormity of their crime, and
exhorting them to make immediate preparation for the awful fate that
awaited them ; adding, " Christian charity obliges me to tell you that
your time in this workl will be very short."
The heinousness of the crime of which these men had been convicted
rendering it necessary that their punishment should be exemplary, the
judge ordered that they should be executed on the following day ; and the
sentence was accordingly carried into execution against all but Jackson,
who died in prison on the evening that he was condemned. They were
attended by two ministers ; and all, except Mills and his son (who took
no notice of each other, and thought themselves not guilty because they
were not present at the finishing of the inhuman murder), showed great
marks of penitence. Tapner and Carter gave good advice to the spectators,
and desired diligence might be used to apprehend Richards, whom they
charged as the cause of their being brought to tliis wretched end. Young
]Mills smiled several times at the executioner, who was a discharged marine,
and having ropes too short for some of them, was puzzled to fit them. Old
3Iills being forced to stand tiptoe to reach the halter, desired that he might
not be hanged by inches. The two Mills were so rejoiced at being told
that they were not to be hanged in chains after execution, that death seemed
to excite in them no terror ; while Jackson was so struck with horror at
being measured for his irons, that he soon expired.
They were hanged at Chichester on the 18th of January 1749, amidst
such a concourse of spectators as is seldom seen on the occasion of a public
execution.
Carter was hung in chains near Rake, in Sussex ; Tapner, on Rook's
Hill, near Chichester ; and Cobby and Hammond, at Cesley Isle, on the
beach where they sometimes landed their smuggled goods, and where they
could be seen at a great distance east and west.
I
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. l.^i
SAMUEL COUCIIMAN and JOHN MORGAN, Lieutenants op
Marines; THOMAS KNIGHT, Carpenter, and others.
SHOT FOR. MUTINY.
The Chesterfield man-of-war, under the command of Captain O'Briac
Dudley, was stationed off Cape-coast Castle, on the coast of Africa, whec
a dano-erous mutiny broke out among the crew, of whom the above-named
officers were the leaders. They were charged on their trial with " exciting and
encouraging mutiny, and running away with his Majesty's ship Chesterfield^
on the 10th day of October 1748, from the coast of Africa, leaving their
captain, two lieutenants, with other officers, and some seamen, on shore."
It appeared from the evidence adduced before the court-martial, by
which the prisoners were tried, and which was presided over by Sir
Edward Hawke, that on the 15th October 1748, Captain Dudley, being
on shore at Cape -coast Castle, sent off his barge to Lieutenant Couchman,
ordering him to send the cutter with the boatswain of the ship, to see the
tents struck, and to bring everything belonging to the ship on board that
night. Coucliman, however, directly ordered the barge to be hoisted in,
and the boatswain to turn all liands on the qiiarter-deck, and then
coming from his cabin with a drawn sword, said, " Here I am ! God
d — n me, I will stand by you while I have a drop of blood in ray body !"
He was accompanied by John Morgan, the second lieutenant of marines,
Thomas Knight the carpenter, his mate John Place (a principal actor),
and about thirty seamen with cutlasses. Tliey then gave three huzzas,
and threw their hats overboard ; damning old hats, and saying that they
would soon get new. Couchman now sent for the boatswain, to know if
he would stand by him, and go with him ; but he replied " No," and said.
For God's sake, sir, be ruled by reason, and consider wliat you are
about." Couchman threatened to put him in irons if he did not join witli
him ; but the boatswain told him he never would be in such piratical
designs, and he was immediately ordered into custody, and two sentinels
put over him. Couchman soon after sent for Gilham, the mate of the
tiiip ; but he also refusing to join him, was put into custody with five or
«ix others. They were confined, however, only five or six hours ; for, in
the middle of the night after their confinement, Couchman sent for them
into the great cabin, desired them to sit and drink punch, and then
dismissed them. The next day the boatswain was invited to dinner by
the new commander, who began to rail against Captain Dudley, and
proposed to him to sign a paper. He refused indignantly, and was imme-
diately dismissed. AVhen he quitted the great cabin, he went to the
gunner, who informed him that he had twenty pistols still at his disposal,
and it was determined that an effort should be made that night to recover
the ship from the mutineers. "When evening drew on, the boatswain
proceeded to sound the ship's company, and he soon found about thirty of
the seamen, besides the mates, gunner's mates, and cockswai« of the barge,
ready to aid him. The boatswain took the command on himself, and the
first step which he took w'as to get up all the irons or bilboes on the
forecastle ; he tlien sent for the twenty pistols, which were all loaded : he
next ordered three men upon the grand maoazine, and two to that abaft ;
132 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
and tlie remainder, who had no pistols, to stay by the bilboes, and secure
as many i)risoners as he should send. This disposition being made, he
went directly down on the deck, where he divided his small company into
two parties ; and, one going down the main, and the other the fore hatch-
way, they soon secured eleven or twelve of the ringleaders, and sent them
up to the forecastle without the least noise. The two parties then joined,
and went directly to the great cabin, where they secured Couchman and
Morgan, with the carpenter, whom they immediately confined in diiFerent
parts of the vessel. The ship being thus secured, the captain again boarded
her and took the command of her ; and on her return to England the
mutineers were brought to trial.
The court-martial having found them guilty of the crimes imputed to
them, they were shot in the month of June 1749.
The boatswain (Poger Winket) was afterwards rewarded with three
liundred pounds a year, as master-attendant of Woolwich- dockyard.
JOHN MILLS.
EXECCTED FOR MURDER.
The case of this felon becomes remarkable from the fact of tlie criminal
being the son of Richard Mills the elder, whose ignominious fate we have
just recorded. It appears that he was engaged in the robbery of the
Custom-house, but escaped ; and soon after his father, brother, and their
accomplices were hanged, he thought of going to Bristol, with a view of
embarking fur France ; and having hinted his intentions to some others,
they resolved to accompany him. Stopping at a house on the road, they
met with one Richard Hawkins, whom they asked to go with them ; but
the poor fellow hesitating, they put him on horseback behind Mills, and
carried him to the Dog and Partridge, on Slendon Common, which was
kept by John Reynolds. They had not been long in the house when
complaint was made that two bags of tea had been stolen, and Hawkins
was charged with the robbery. He steadily denied any knowledge of the
affair ; but they obliged him to pull off his clothes ; and, having stripped
themselves, they began to whip him with the most unrelenting barbarity :
and Curtis, one of the gang, said he did know of the robbery, and if
he would not confess, he would whip him till he did; for he had whipped
many a rogue, and washed his hands in his blood.
The villains continued whipping the poor wretch till their breath was
almost exhausted, when at length the imfortunate man mentioned some-
thing of his father and brother ; on which Mills and Curtis said they would
go and fetch them ; but Hawkins expired soon after they had left the house.
On their way back they met Winter, one of their companions, who
informed them of this fact, when they dismissed the men whom they had
compelled to accompany them, saying that they should be sent for when
they were wanted. Their next anxiety was as to the mode in which they
should dispose of the body, and it was proposed to throw it into a well in
an adjacent park ; but this being objected to, they carried it twelve miles,
and having tied stones to it in order to sink it, they threw it into a pond
in Parham Park, belonging to Sir Cecil Bishop ; and in this place it lay
more than two months before it was discovered.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 133
Mills was afterwards taken into custody on the information of Pring, an
outlawed smuggler, and being tried, was convicted.
The country being at that time filled with smugglers, a rescue was
feared ; wherefore he was conducted to the place of execution by a guard
of soldiers. When there, he prayed with a clergyman, confessed that he
had led a bad life, acknowledged the murder of Hawkins, desired that all
young people would take warning by his untimely end, and humbly implored
the forgiveness of God. He was executed on Slendon Common on the 12th
of August 1 749, and afterwards hung in chains on the same spot.
AMY HUTCHINSON.
BURNT FOR THE MURDER OF HER HUSBAND.
Tins malefactor was born of indigent parents, in the Isle of Ely, and
having received a poor education, at the age of sixteen she attracted the
attention of a young man, whose love she returned with equal affection.
Her father, being apprised of the connexion, strictly charged his daughter
to decline it : but there was no arguing against love ; the intimacy
continued till it became criminal. The young fellow having soon grown
tired of her, went off to London, and she determined to revenge herself
upon him for his infidelity, by marrying another suitor, named John
Hutchinson, who had previously been disagreeable to her. The marriage
accordingly took place ; but her first admirer happening to return from
London just as the newly- wedded pair were coming out of church, the
bride was greatly affected at the recollection of former scenes, and the
irrevocable ceremony which had now passed. Unable to love the man she
had married, she doted to distraction on him she had lost, and, only a few
days after her marriage, admitted him to his former intimacy with her.
Hutchinson becoming jealous of his wife, a quarrel ensued, in consequence
of which he beat her with great severity; but this producing no alteration
in her conduct, lie had recourse to drinking, with a view to avoid the pain
of reflection on his situation. In the interim his wife and the young
fellow continued their guilty intercourse uninterrupted ; but, considering
the life of her husband as a bar to their happiness, it was resolved to
remove him by poison. For this purpose the wife purchased a quantity of
arsenic ; and J\lr. Hutchinson being afflicted with an ague, and wishing
for something warm to drink, she put some arsenic in ale, of which he
drank very plentifully ; and then she left him, saying she would go and
buy something for his dinner. Meeting her lover, she acquainted him with
what had passed ; on which he advised her to buy more poison, fearing
the first might not be suflicient to operate ; but its effects were fatal, and
Hutchinson died about dinner-time on the same day. The deceased wag
buried on the following Sunday, and the next day the former lover renewed
his visits ; which occasioning the neighbours to talk very freely of the
affair, the young widow was taken into custody on suspicion of having
committed the murder.
The body being exhumed, it was foimd that death had been caused by
poison, and the prisoner was convicted and sentenced to death.
She was strangled and burned at Ely, on the 7th November 1750, con-
fessi.ig the crime of which she had been found guilty.
134 THE NEAV NEWGATE CALENDAR
JOHN CARR.
EXECUTED FOR FORGERY.
This ofifender was born of respectable parents, who gave him a good
education, in the North of Ireland. Having gone to Dublin at tlie age of
sixteen years, he soon afterwards entered into business as a wine-merchant ;
but being uncontrolled, he fell into bad habits and company, and was
compelled to give up his trade. An associate inviting him to join him at
Kilkenny, he proceeded thither by coach, and seeing a lady in the convey-
ance, the elegance of her appearance and manners impressed him with an
idea that she was of rank. He determined, if possible, to profit by the
opportunity afforded him. He handed her into the inn, and a proposal
being made that the company should sup together, it was agreed to on all
hands ; and while the supper was preparing, Carr applied himself to the
coachman to learn the history of the young lady ; but all the information
he could obtain was, that he had taken her up at Dublin, and that she was
going to the Spa at Mallow. He was determined, however, to become
better acquainted with her, and prevailed on the company to repose them-
selves the next day at Kilkenny, and take a view of the Duke of Ormond's
seat, and the curiosities of the town. This proposal being acceded to, the
evening was spent in the utmost harmony and good -humour; and the fair
stranger even then conceived an idea of making a conquest of Mr. Carr,
from whose appearance she was induced to suppose that he was a man of
distinction. It was now " diamond cut diamond," and in the morning the
fair incognita dressed herself to great advantage, not forgetting the orna-
ment of jewels, which she wore in abundance ; so that when she entered
the room, Carr was astonished at her appearance. She found the influence
she had over him, and resolved to afford him an early opportunity of
speaking his sentiments ; and while the company were walking in the
gallery of the Duke of Ormond's palace, an occasion presented itself, which
was not lost by either party. The lady at first affected displeasure at so
explicit a declaration ; but, soon assuming a more affable deportment, she
told him she was an Englishwoman of rank ; that his person was not dis-
agreeable to her ; and that, if he was a man of fortune and the consent of
her relations could be obtained, she should not be averse to listening to his
addi-esses. She further said that she was going to spend part of the
summer at Mallow, where his company would be agreeable ; and he
followed her to that place, contrary to the advice of his friend, who had
formed a very unfavourable opinion of the lady's character.
It is needless to say that the company of so refined and elegant a person
was not to be kept without some expenses, which were not of a very
moderate character, and the difficulties in which our hero had already
placed himself were in nowise diminished by his new connexion. He
remained with her, however, until the end of the season induced them to
return to Dublin ; and then a trip to England was proposed, preparatory to
tlie final steps being taken to complete the nuptial arrangements. Tlie
o-allantry and wits of the gentleman were sorely tested to i)rocure tlie
requisite funds for the trip ; but he at length succeeded in obtaining such
a sum as he and the lady deemed sufficient. The passage only remained
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 135
to be secured, and the too credulous sliarper was employed iu obtaining it ;
but in his absence the lady shipjied all the eft'ects on board a vessel bound
for Amsterdam, and, having dressed herself in man's apparel, she embarked
and sailed, leaving Carr to regret his ill-judged credulity.
Thus reduced to want, he went to London, and having enlisted as a foot-
soldier, he was discharged after several years' service. lie subsequent!)-
entered as* a marine, but soon afterwards came to London again, and opened
a shop in Hog-lane, St. Giles's. He now married a girl who he thought
had money; but soon discovering her poverty, he abandoned her, and
removed to Short's Gardens, where he entered into partnership with a
cork-cutter ; but having obtained the promise of support from his partner's
customers, he set up on his own account, and was tolerably successful, though
his passion for gambling prevented his retaining any part of the produce
of his business. His new companions at the gaming-table, having an eye
to their own profit, oftered to procure him a wife of fortune, though they
knew he had a wife living, and actually contrived to introduce him to a
young lady of property, with whom a marriage would probably have
♦".ken place, but that one of them, struck with remorse of conscience,
developed the affixir to her father, and frustrated the whole scheme. Being
now again thrown upon his own resources, he engaged himself as porter to
a merchant ; but while in this condition, his master having entrusted him
with a cheek, for sixty pounds, he procured it to be cashed, and having
spent the money in the lowest debauchery, he again entered as a marine.
There being something in his deportment superior to the vulgar, lie was
advanced to the rank of sergeant, in which he behaved so well that his
officers treated him with considerable favour.
The vessel in which he sailed was of considerable power, and taking a
merchant-ship richly laden, and soon afterwards several smaller vessels,
the prize-money amounted to a considerable sum. This gave Carr an idea
that very great advantages might be obtained by privateering, and having
procured a discharge, he entered on board a privateer, and was made
master-at-arms. In a few days the privateer took two Fi-ench ships, one
of which they carried to Bristol, and the other into the harbour of Poole ;
and refitting their ship, they sailed again, and in two days took a French
j^rivateer, and gave chase to three others, which they found to have been
English vessels belonging to Falmouth, which had been captured by a
French privateer. These they retook, and carried them into Falmouth ;
in their passage to which place they made prize of a valuable French ship,
the produce of which contributed to enrich the crew. On their next trip,
they saw a ship in full chase of them, on which they prepared for a
vigorous defence ; and an action soon after taking place, many hands were
lost by the French, who at length attempted to sheer oft", but were taken
after a chase of some leagues.
The commander of the English privateer, being desperately wounded in
the engagement, died in a few days ; on which Carr courted his widow,
and a marriage woxdd have taken place, but that she was seized with a
violent fever, which deprived her of life — but not before she had bequeathed
him all she was possessed of. Having disposed of her eft'ects, he repaired
to London, where he commenced smuggler : but his ill-gotten goods being
seized on by the officers of tlie revenue, he took to the still more dangerous
practice of forging seamen's wills, and gained money thus for some time ;
I3(i THE NEW NEWGATE CALEN'DAW.
hut, being apprehended, he was brought to trial at the Old Bailey con-
victed, and was sentenced to die.
He was of the Romish persuasion, and died with decent resignation to
liis fate.
Carr was hanged at Tyburn on the 16th of November 1750.
NORMAN ROSS.
EXECUTED FOR ML'RDER.
About the time at which this man met his most deserved punishment,
the public journals teemed ^vith accounts of the impudence and crimes of
the parti-coloured tribe of servants denominated footmen. To such a
darinof pitch had their impudence arrived, that they created a riot at the
theatre in Drury Lane, even in the presence of the heir-apparent to the
throne. One evening when the Prince and Princess of Wales, the father
and mother of King George III., attended the performance, these mis-
creants commenced a dreadful uproar. It was then the custom to admit
servants in livery into the upper gallery gratis^ in compliment to their
employers, on whom they were supposed to be in attendance ; and not
content with peaceably witnessing the performance, they frequently
interrupted those who had paid for admission, and, assuming the preroga-
tive of critics, hissed or applauded with the most offensive clamour. In
consequence of these violent proceedings, the manager shut the door against
diem, tinless they each paid their shilling. Upon an occasion when that part
of the roval family already mentioned were present, tliey mustered in a gang,
to the number of three hundred ; broke open the doors of the theatre, fought
their way to the very door of the stage, and, in their progress, wounded
twenty-five peaceable people. Colonel De Veil, then an active magistrate
for Westminster, happened to be present, and in vain attempted to read a
proclamation against such an outrage ; but, though they obstructed him in
his duty, he caused the ringleaders to be secured, and the next day com-
mitted three of them to Newgate.
At the ensuing sessions they were convicted of the riot, and sentenced to
imprisonment.
In the mean time, the choler of these upstarts was raised to such a pitch.,
that they sent the following threat to the manager : —
" To Mr. Fleetwood, in Lincoln's-Inn-Fieids, Master of the Theatre, Drury Lane.
" Sir, — We are willing to admonish you, before we attempt our design :
and provided you use us civil, and admit us into our gallery, which is our
property, according to formalities ; and if you think proper to come to a
composition this way, you'll hear no further ; and if not, our intention is
to combine in a body, incognito, and reduce the playhouse to the ground ;
valuing no detection — we are indemnified I"
The manager carried this letter to the Lord Chamberlain, who ordered a
detachment of fifty soldiers to do duty tliere each night, and thus deterred
the saucy- knaves ft-om carrying their threats into execution.
At the Edinburgh theatre it was also a custom to admit men wearing tlie
badge of servitude into the gallery^ra^js; and when Garrick's inimitable farce,
"• Hicfh liife Below Stairs," wherein the waste and impudence of domestic
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 137
servants of rich men is completely exposed, was performed there, a nio>t
violent clamour broke out in the gallery, so as entirely to interrupt the
performance, and put the other part of the audience in fear of the con-
sequences. The hardy Scotchmen, however, laid hold of the rioters, and
kicked every footman, who alone were concerned, out of the house, where,
without paying, they never more entered.
Having thus referred to an evil which existed in 1751, and which even
to this moment continues to exist to a considerable extent, namely the over-
bearing insolence of the fellows who iisually fill the situations of domestic
servants in the families of the rich, it is time to proceed to the history of
the subject of this sketch. Koss was born of decent parents in Inverness,
and received an education by which he would have been fitted to fill a
situation in a merchant's counting-house. The difficulty in obtaining such
employment, however, induced him to enter the service of a lady, who had
always exhibited great kindness towards his family ; and he soon afterwards
accompanied her son to the Continent in the capacity of valet-de-cJiamhre.
He continued in this situation during about five years, when he returned
to Scotland, and was employed by an attorney in Edinburgh ; but having
contracted an intimacy among other servants, from their instruction he
acquired all the fashionable habits of drinking, swearing, and gaming, and
was dismissed on account of his impudence, and the irregularities of his
conduct.
He was subsequently engaged by a Mrs. Hume, a widow lady of good
fortune, whose residence, during the summer, was at Ayton, a village about
four miles from Berwick-upon-Tweed, The extravagance of our hero, and
an unfortunate intercourse which he had with a fellow-servant, soon com-
pelled him to look for some other means of procuring money, besides that
which was honestly affbrded him by his mistress ; and having exhausted
the patience of his friends by borrowing from them repeatedly, he formed
the resolution of robbing his employer. It would appear that 3Irs. Hume
slept in a room on the first floor, and that the keys of her bureau were
usually placed under her head for safety. Sunday night was the time
fixed upon for the commission of the robbery, and, waiting in his bed-room
without undressing himself, till he judged the family to be asleep, he
descended, and leaving his shoes in the passage, proceeded to his lady's
bed-chamber. Upon his endeavouring to get possession of the keys, the
lady was disturbed, and being dreadfully alarmed, called for assistance ;
but the rest of the family lying at a distant part of the house, her screams
were not heard. Ross immediately seized a clasp-knife that lay on the
table, and cut his mistress's throat in a most dreadful manner. This horrid
act was no sooner perpetrated than, without waiting to put on his shoes,
or to secure either money or other effects, he leaped out of the window, and
after travelling several miles, concealed himself in a field of com.
In the morning the gardener discovered a livery hat, which the murderer
had dropped in descending from the window; and, suspecting that some-
thing extraordinary had happened, he alarmed his fellow-servants. The
disturbance in the house brought the two daughters of j\Irs. Hume down
stairs ; but no words can express the horror and consternation of the young
ladies upon beholding their parent weltering in her blood, and the fatal
instrument of death lying on the floor.
Ross being absent, and his shoes and hat being found, it was concluded
VOL. I. X
13S THE NEW NEAVGATE CALENDAR.
that he must have committed the barbarous deed ; and the butler tlierefore
mounted a horse, and ahxrmed the country, lest the nmrderous villain
should escape. The butler was soon joined by fji;reat numbers of horsemen;
and towards the conclusion of the day, when both men and horses were
nearly exhausted through excessive fatigue, tlie murderer was discovered
in a field of standing corn. He was immediately secured, and beiTior
brought to trial, he had the effrontery to declare that he was admitted to
sliare his mistress's bed, and that his custom was always to leave his shoes
at tlie parlour door. That on the night of the murder he proceeded as
usual to her room, but on entering it his horror was aroused at discovering
her to be murdered. He leaped out at the window to search for the
perpetrators of the deed, and dropping his hat he tliought it better not to
return until night. Having been found guilty, he was sentenced to have
his right hand chopped oft', then to be hanged till dead, the body to be
hung in chains, and the right hand to be aftixed at the top of the gibbet,
with the knife made use of in the commission of the murder.
Upon receiving sentence of death he began seriously to reflect on his
miserable situation, and the next day he requested the attendance of INlr.
James Craig, one of the ministers of Edinburgh, to whom he confessed his
guilt, declaring that there was no foundation for his reflections against the;
chastity of the deceased. Six weeks elapsed between the time of his trial
and that of his execution, during which he showed every sign of the most
sincere penitence, and refused to accompany two ])risoners who broke out
of jail, saying he had no desire to recover his liberty, but that on the
contrary he would cheerfully submit to the utmost severity of punishment,
that he might make atonement for his wickedness. The day appointed
for putting the sentence of the law into force being arrived, Ross walked
to the place of execution, holding Mr. Craig by the arm. Having addressed
a pathetic speecli to the populace, and prayed sometime with great fervency
of devotion, the rope was put round his neck, and he laid his right hand
upon the block, when it was struck oft" by the executioner at two blows.
lie was immediately afterwards run up to the gallows, when, feeling the
rope drawing tight, by a convulsive motion of the arm he struck his bloody
wrist against his cheek, wliichgaveit a ghastly appearance. The sentence
was subsequently fully carried into effect.
The execution took place on the bth January 1751.
THOMAS COLLEY.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
Tuis offender was a victim to his own feelings of superstition. At the
time of his crime and execution the belief in witchcraft was almost
universal, and CoUey was hanged for the murder of a poor old woman
named Osborne, whose qualities as a witch he tested by ducking her in a
])ond until she was dead, thereby indisputably proving to the satisfaction
of all, and to the credit of the deceased woman, how unjustifiable were the
susjncions which had been entertained of her character.
The evidence given against the prisoner was to tlie following effect : —
On the 18th April, 1751, a man named Nichols went to William Dell, the
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 135
crier at Hcniel Hempstead, in Hertfordshire, and delivered to lilm a papei
to the following effect, which was to be cried :
'• This is to give notice, that on ^Monday next, a man and woman are to
be ]iubllcly ducked at Trlng, in this county, for their wicked crimes.'
Tills notice was given at Wlnslow and Leighton-Buzzard, as well as at
Heniel- Hempstead, on the respective market-days, and was heard by Mr.
Barton, overseer of the parish of Trlng, who being Informed that the
])ersons intended to be ducked were John Osborne, and lluth his wife, and
having no doubt of the good character of both the parties, sent them to
the workhouse, as a protection from the rage of the mob.
On the day appointed for the practice of the infernal ceremony, an
immense number of people, supposed to be not fewer tlian five thousand,
assembled near the workhouse at Trlng, vowing revenge against Osborne
and his wife, as a wizard and a witch, and demanding that they should be
delivered up to their fury. In support of their demands they pulled down
a wall belonging to the workhouse, and broke the windows and window-
frames. On the preceding evening the master of the workhouse, suspecting
some violence from what he heard of the disposition of the people, had
sent Osborne and his wife to the vestry-room belonging to the church, as a
place the most likely to secure them from Insult. The mob would not
give credit to the master of the workhouse that the parties were removed,
but, rushing into the house, searched it through, examining the closets,
boxes, trunks, and even the salt-box, in quest of them. There being a
jiole In the celling, which had been left by the plasterers, CoUey, who was
one of the most active of the gang, exclaimed, " Let us search the celling ;"
and this being done, but of course without success, they swore that they
would pull down the liouse, and set fire to Trlng, If the parties were not
produced. The master of the workhouse, ajiprehenslve that they would
carry their threats Into execution, and unmindful of the safety of the
unfortimate wretches whom it was his duty to protect, at length gave up
their place of concealment ; and the whole jnob, with Colley at their head,
forthwith marched off to the church and brought them off in triumj)h.
Their persons secured, they were carried to a pond, called Marlston Mere,
Avhere they were stripped and tied up separately in cloths. A rope was
then bound round the body of the woman, under her arm-pits, and two
men dragged her into the pond, and through it several times ; Colley going
into the pond, and, with a stick, turning her from side to side. Having
ducked her repeatedly In this manner, they placed her by the side of the
pond, and dragged the old man In, and ducked him : then he was put by,
and the woman ducked again as before, Colley making the same use of his
stick. AVith this cruelty the husband was treated twice over, and the
wife three times ; during the last of which the cloth In which she was
wrapped came oft", and she appeared cfulte naked.
Not satisfied with this barbarity, Colley pushed his stick against her
breast, and the poor woman attempted to lay hold of it ; but her strength
being now exhausted, she expired on the spot. Colley then went round the
))ond, collecting money of the populace for the sport he had shown them in
ducking the old witch, as he called her. The mob now departed to their
several habitations ; and the body being taken out of the ])ond, was exa-
mined by Mr. Foster, a sixrgeon ; and the coroner's Inquest being summoned
oa the occasion, ]\Ir Foster deposed that, '• on examining the body of the
IJO THE >;EW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
deceased, he found no wound, either internal or external, except a little
piac« ihat had the skin off on one of her hreasts ; and it was his opinion
that she was suffocated with water and mud."
Hereupon CoUey was taken into custody, and when his trial came on,
Mr. Foster deposed to the same effect as above mentioned ; and there being
a variety of other strong proofs of the prisoner's guilt, he was convicted, and
received sentence of death. His defence was that he had endeavoured to
protect the old people from violence, instead of attempting to injure them
After conviction he seemed to behold his guilt in its true light of enor-
mity. He became, as far as could be judged, sincerely penitent for his sins,
and made good use of the short time he had to live in the solemn prepara-
tion for eternity.
The day before his execution he was removed from the jail of Hertford,
imder the escort of one hundred men of the Oxford Blues, commanded by
seven officers; and being lodged in the jail of St. Albans, was put into a
chaise at five o'clock the next morning, with the hangman, and reached the
place of execution about eleven, where his y\\ie and daughter came to take
leave of him. The minister of Tring assisted him in his last moments, and
he died exhibiting all the marks of unfeigned penitence.
He was executed on the 24th of August 1751, and his body afterwards
hunor in chains at a place called Gubblecut, near which the offence was
committed.
It is not a little remarkable that, at so recent a period, so many people
as composed this mob should be found so benighted in intellect, and ritterly
uninformed, as to be guilty of so miserable and so glaring a piece of
absurdity and wickedness as that which was proved in the evidence against
the prisoner. In former ages, it is true, not only the people, but even the
authorities of the land, believed in witchcraft and sorcery ; but it is indeed
extraordinary that in tlie eighteenth century a scene such as that described
could have been permitted to occur at a village within thirty miles of the
metropolis.
The following copy of an indictment, furnished us by a friend who took
it from the American Court record, must prove a matter of curiosity to the
reader at the present enlightened era : —
" Essex, ss. (a town in the colony of Massachusetts Bay, in Xew
England.)
" The jurors of our sovereign lord and lady, the king and queen (King
William and Queen ^lary), present, that George Burroughs, late of Fal-
mouth, in tlie province of ^Massachusetts Bay, clerk (a Presbyterian minister
of the Gospel), the 9th day of ]May, and divers other days and times, as
well before as after, certain detestable arts, called witchcraft and sorceries,
wickedly and feloniously hath used, practised and exercised at and in the
town of Salem, in the county aforesaid, upon and against one ]\Iary Walcot,
single woman, by which said wicked arts the said Mary, on the day afore-
said, and divers other days and times, as well before as after, was, and is
tortured, afflicted, pined, consumed, wasted, and tormented against the
peace," See.
A witness, by name Ann Putnam, deposed as follows : — On the 8th of
May, l(i92, I saw the apparition of George Burroughs, who grievously
tormented me, and urged me to write in his book, which I refused. He
then told me that his two first wives would appear to me presently and
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 141
tell me a great many lies, but I must not believe tliem. Then immediately
appeared to me the forms of two women in winding-sheets, and napkins
about their heads, at which I was greatly affrighted. They turned their
faces towards Mr. Burroughs, and looked red and angry, and told him that
he had been very cruel to tliem, and that their blood called for vengeance
acrainst him ; and they also told him that tliey should be clothed with white
robes in heaven when he should be cast down into hell, and he imme-
diately vanished away. And as soon as he was gone, the women turned
tlieir faces towards me, and looked as pale as a white wall ; and told me
tliey were Mr. Burroughs's two wives, and that he had murdered them.
And one told me she was his first wife, and he stabbed her under the left
breast, and put a piece of sealing-wax in the wound ; and she pulled aside
the winding-sheet and showed me the place : she also told me that she was
in the house where Mr. Daris, the minister of Danvers, then lived when it
was done. And the other told me that Mr. Burroughs and a wife that he
hath now, killed her in the vessel as she was coming to see her friends from
the eastward, because they would have one another. And they both
charged me to tell these things to the magistrates before Mr. Burroughs's
face ; and if he did not own them, they did not know but they should
appear this morning. This morning, also, appeared to me another woman
in a winding-sheet, and told me that she was Goodman Fuller's first wife,
and Mr. Burroughs killed her, because there was a difference between her
husband and him.
Upon the above, and some other such evidence, was this unfortunate
man condemned and executed.
The days are now, happily, past, when sucli monstrous absurdities
are heard of.
FREDERICK CAULFIELD.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
The following is a remarkable instance, if it be true, of a dream occa-
sioning the discovery of a murder :
Adam Rogers (a creditable man, who kept a public-house at Portlaw, a
small village nine or ten miles fi'om Waterford, in Ireland) dreamed one
night that he saw two men at a particular green spot on an adjacent moun-
tain ; one of them a sickly-looking man, the other remarkably strong and
large. He then fancied that he saw the little man murder the other, and
awoke in great agitation. The circumstances of the dream were so
distinct and forcible that he continued much affected by them ; and on the
next morning he was extremely startled at seeing two strangers enter his
house, about eleven o'clock in the forenoon, who resembled precisely the
two men that he fancied he had seen.
After the strangers had taken some refreshment, and were about to
tiepart, in order to prosecute their journey, Rogers earnestly endeavoured
to dissuade tlie little man from quitting his house and going on with his
fellow-traveller ; and he assured him that if he would remain with him
that day, he would himself accompany him to Carrick next morning, that
being the town to which they were proceeding. He was unwilling and
ashamed to tell the cause of his being so solicitous to separate him from
142 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
his companion ; but as he observed tliat Hickoy, whicli was the name of the
little man, seemed to be quiet and gentle in his deportment, and had money
about him, and that the other had a ferocious bad countenance, he dreaded
that something fatal would happen, and wished, at all events, to keep them
asunder. The humane precautions which he took, however, proved
ineftectual; for Caulfield (such was the other's name) prevailed upon Hickey
to continue with him on their way to Carrick, declaring that, as they had
loner travelled together they should not part, but should remain together
until he should see Hickey safely arrive at the habitation of his friends.
They accordingly set out together ; and in about an hour after they left
Portlaw, in a lonely part of the mountain, just near the place observed by
Roo-ers in his dream, Caulfield took the opportunity of murdering his com-
panion. It appeared afterwards, from his own account of the horrid trans-
action, that as they were getting over the ditch, he struck Hickey on the
back part of his head with a stone ; and when he fell down into the trench,
in consequence of the blow, Caulfield gave him several stabs with a knife,
and cut his throat so deeply, that the head was almost severed from the
body. He then rifled Hickey's pockets of all the money in them, took
part of his clothes, and everything else of value about him, and afterwards
proceeded on his way to Carrick. He had not been long gone when the
body, still warm, was discovered by some labourers who were returning to
their work from dinner. The report of the murder soon reached Portlaw ;
and Rooers and his wife went to the place, and instantly knew the body of
him whom they had in vain endeavoured to dissuade from going on with
his treacherous companion. They at once declared their suspicions that
the murder was perpetrated by the fellow traveller of the deceased ; and an
immeiiiate search was made, and Caulfield was apprehended at Waterford
on the second day after. He was brought to trial at the ensuing assizes,
and convicted of the fact.
After sentence, the prisoner confessed that he had been guilty of the
murder, and stated that he had accompanied Hickey home from the West
Indies ; and that observing that he had money in his possession, he had
long contemplated the deed which he afterwards effected, but was unable to
meet with a good opportunity until their arrival at the spot alluded to.
He was executed at Waterford in the year 1751.
WILLIAM PARSONS, ESQ.
KXECUTED FOR RETURNING FROM TRANSPORTATION.
The unhappy subject of this narrative was the eldest son of Sir WiUiam
Parsons, Bart., of the county of Nottingham, and was born in London in
the year 1717. He was placed imder the care of a pious and learned
divine at Pepper -harrow, in Surrey, where he received the first rudiments
of education. In a little more than three years he was removed to Eton
College, where it was intended that he should qualify himself for one of
the imiversities ; but his misconduct prevented his friends from carrying
out their intentions in this respect ; for having been detected in various
acts of petty pilfering, he was dismissed the school, and sent home to his
father. His disposition was now found to be of so unpromising a character,
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. ]43
tliafc it was thought advisable to send him to sea, and an appointment was
procnred for him as midshipman on board a vessel of war lying at Spitliead,
which was immediately abont to proceed to Jamaica. Our hero soon obtained
the necessary outfit, and joined his ship ; but some accident detaining her
beyond the time when it was expected she would sail, he applied for leave
of absence, and went on shore ; but having no intention to return,
he directed his course towards a small town about ten miles from Ports-
mouth, called Bishop's Waltham, Avhere, by representations of his
respectability, he soon ingratiated himself into the favour of the principal
inhabitants.
His figure being pleasing, and his manner of address easy and polite, he
found but little difficulty in recommending himself to the ladies, and he
became greatly enamoured of a beautiful and accomplished young lady,
the daughter of a physician of considei-able practice, and prevailed upon
her to promise that she woiild yield to him her hand in marriage.
News of the intended alliance coming to the knowledge of his father and
of his uncle, the latter directly hastened to AValtham, to prevent a union,
which would have produced consequences of the worst character to the
contracting parties, and having apprised the friends of the young lady with
the condition and situation of the intended bridegroom, their consent was
withdrawn, and our hero was with some difficulty induced to rejoin his
ship. Restless, however, in his new employment, he had scarcely reached
Jamaica, when he determined that he would desert and return to England ;
and the sailing of the Sheerness man-of-war for tliat place afforded him an
opportunity of carrying his design into execution, of which he lost no time
in availing himself. A new effort to obtain the hand of his former lov?
was as unsuccessful as that which he had first made ; and his uncle having
ascertained the fact of his presence in Englaiid, induced him at once to go
back to the residence of his father, with promises of future amendment.
For a time his determination to alter his course of life was obeyed ; but
soon again launching forth into habits of irregularity, he was despatched
as midshipman on board the Roinney^ for the coast of Newfoundland. On
his revisiting England, after an absence of some years, he was mortified to
learn that the Duchess of Northumberland, to whom he was distantly
related, had revoked a will in his favour, which she had made, and had
bequeathed to his sister the fortune which, he knew, had been intended for
him ; and now, finding himself spurned by his friends, he was soon reduced
to a condition of absolute necessity. Through the friendly intervention of
a Mr. Bailey, however, he procured an engagement at James Fort, on the
river Gambia, but here, as in all other situations unfortunate, he contrived
to engage himself in a quarrel, in consequence of which he was compelled
to return to Europe — a step, however, which he was alone enabled to take
by setting at defiance the commands of the Governor Aufleur, that he
should not quit the colony — and take his passage under an assumed name
on board a homeward-bound trader.
Arrived in London, he found no friend to whom he could apply for
assistance or relief, but at length discovering the residence of his father, he
went to him and implored some aid, even if he should not give him any
further countenance. Five shillings, and advice to enter a horse regiment
as a private, were all that he could obtain, nowever, and rendered wretched
by his miserable condition, the grave appeared to be the only resource to
T44 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
which he could look for consolation. But a thought suggested itself m
time to i)revent his rashly taking away his life, that he should represent
himself as his brother, who had recently come into a fortune ; and under
the pretext that he Avas entitled to the legacy, he committed frauds upon
various tradesmen to a considerable amount. His impudence and his
ingenuity were now required to be exerted in order to relieve him from the
difficulty in which he was involved in consequence of this proceeding, but
his good fortune in throwing him in the way of a young lady of good
fortune, to whom he was married, placed in his power the means of
retrieving his lost character and his degraded position. The marriage was
solemnised on the lOth February 1740; and the intercession of his friends,
to whom he Avas now with difficulty again reconciled, procured for him
an ensigncy in the 34th regiment of foot from the right honourable
Arthur Onslow.
He appeared at this time to be desirous of xe-appearing in that position
in society to which his birth entitled him ; but liaving hired a house in
Poland-street, his extravagant mode of living again, in the course of a few
years, reduced him to a condition of great distress. He was compelled to
sell his commission in order to recruit his shattered finances ; and then, in
order to meet new demands, he was guilty of various forgeries, iipon which
he procured money to a very large amount. For two years he pursued
new plans of iniquity with considerable success, but then being apprehended
in the act of putting off a forged draft, he was committed to Maidstone
jail, and having been convicted at the ensuing assizes, was sentenced to be
transported for seven yeai's. In the month of September, 1749, he was
put on board the Thames transport, bound for Maryland, and in the
following November he was landed at Annapolis, in that place. He was
now guilty of new offences, even more criminal than those which he had
before committed, and having first ridden off with a horse belonging to
the person to whom he was assigned as a servant, and committed several
robberies, he shaped his course to Potomac, from whence he immediately
sailed for England.
That refuge for the destitute of all classes at this period, " the road,"
was now the only resource left to our hero, and for a time he pursued his
nev»^ occupation with infinite determination and proportionate success ; but
at length having attempted to rob Mr. Fuller, tlie gentleman by whom he
had before been prosecuted, he was recognised by him, and being vigorously
attacked, was at length compelled to surrender, and was secured and
committed to Newgate.
It was necessary to prove no new offence against him at his trial, but
all that was required was to identify him as a transported felon, who had
returned to England before the termination of the period for which he had
been sentenced to be banished ; and this being done, he was declared to
have forfeited his life to the laws of his country. His distressed father
and wife used all their interest to obtain for him a pardon, but in vain :
he was an old offender, and judged by no means a fit object for mercy.
While Parsons remained in Newgate, his behaviour was such that it
could not be determined whether he entertained a proper idea of his dreadful
situation. There is, indeed, but too much reason to fear that the hopes of
a reprieve (in which he deceived himself even to the last moments of his
life) induced him to neglect the necessary preparation for eternity.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 145
His taking leave of his wife afforded a scene extremely affecting : he
recommended to her parental protection his only child, and regretted that
his misconduct had put it in the power of a censorious world to reflect upon
both the mother and son.
At tlie place of execution he joined in the devotional exercises with a
fervency of zeal that proved him to be convinced of the necessity of
obtainino- the pardon of his Creator.
AVilliam Parsons, Esq. suffered at Tyburn, on the 11th of Feb. 1751.
W I L L I A ]\I *"; H A N D L E K.
TRANSPORTED FOR PERJURY.
The scheme laid by this man for the purpose of plunder has scarcely
ever been equalled in art and consummate hypocrisy. It is to be observed
that in the case of every robbery committed, the hundred where it happens,
or the county at large, is responsible for the amount of the loss which the
injured person in such cases may sustain. In Chandler's attempt at fraud
founded upon this law, he implicated three innocent men, by whom he
pretended to have been robbed, and who, had his tale ultimately received
credit, might have lost their lives. Happily his plot was frustrated, and
the real offender was brought to justice.
William Chandler was the only child of Mr. Thomas Chandler, of
Woodborough, near Devizes, a gentleman farmer of moderate means. At
an early age the youth was articled to IMr. Banks, who was clerk of the
Goldsmiths' Company ; but before two years had elapsed, in consequence
of frequent disputes which took place, he was transferred to Mr. Hill, a
respectable attorney in Clifford's Inn. His clerkship being nearly expired,
the necessity of providing himself with the means of commencing practice
on his own account suggested itself to his mind, and he therefore laid a
plan to procure the possession of as much money as he could, and then
going a journey into the country, upon some plausible pretence, to trump
up a story of being robbed, and sue the hundred for the amount. Upon
representations to his father, that he had a good match in view, the old
man gave him an estate of the value of 400Z. ; and then producing the
deeds to his master, together with 500/. which he had obtained by other
means, but which he represented that he had received from a rich uncle in
Suffolk, he procured from him the advance of 500/. more, in order, as he
alleged, that he might take a mortgage upon some property at Enford,
within a few miles of his father's house. Mr. Hill demanded some
security for his money, and his clerk immediately pi'oposed to give him a
mortgage upon his own estate. In order to favour the appearance of the
probability of his proceedings, he engaged with a Mrs. Poor, who lived at
Enford, in a transaction, having the mortgage of some land which she
owned for its object, and the money having been duly advanced by his
employer, he fixed the 25th March, 1748, to meet Mrs. Poor to hand over
the money and receive the necessary papers. Early on the 24th, having
turned most of his cash into small bills, to the amount of 900/., he found,
when he came to put these in canvas bags under his garters, where he
proposed to carry them for safety, that they made too great a bundle, and
VOL. 1. U
146 THE NKW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
therefore he took several of the bills, with some cash, amoimtino- to 4-^0/.,
and exchanged them at the bank for two notes, one of 400/. and the other
of 40/. ; the first of which, in his way home, he changed in his master's
name, at Sir Richard Hoare's, for one note of 200/., and two of 100/. each.
<.)n liis reaching the office, he told his master that the bank clerks were a
little out of humour at the trouble he had already given them, and that he
had changed his small notes with a stranger in the bank- hall for the notes
which he in reality had received at Sir Richard Hoare's. Mr. Hill, at
Chandler's request, having then written down tlie numbers and dates of
the several bills, and having seen them safely put up, Chandler took leave
of him, and about twelve o'clock set out.
About four o'clock the same afternoon he reached Hare-hatch, distant
thirty miles from London, where he stopped to refresh ; and about five,
just as he had left his inn, he was, as he said, unfortunately met by three
bargemen on foot, who, after they had robbed him of his watch and money,
took him to a pit close by the road, and there stripped him of all his bank-
notes, bound his hands and feet, and left him, threatening lo return and
shoot him if he made the least noise. In this woful condition, he said, he
lay three hours, though the pit was so near the road that not a single horse
could pass without his hearing. When night came, however, he jumped,
bound as he was, near half a mile, all up hill, till, luckily for his purpose,
''e met one Avery, a simple shepherd, who cut the cords, and of whom the
first question Chandler asked was, where a constable or tything-man lived.
Avery conducted him to Richard Kelly's, the constable's just by, and with
him Mr. Chandler left the notices required by the statutes, with the
description of the men who robbed him, so exactly, that a person present
remembered three such men to have passed by his house about the very
time the robbery was said to have been committed ; and the mayor of
Reading, who was accidentally on the road, had a similar recollection of
the bargemen, whom he had met near Maidenhead thicket, between four anti
five the same day. Chandler then returned to the inn where he had
refreshed, and, after telling his deplorable tale, and acquainting his land-
lord with his intention of suing the hundred, he ordered a good supper and
a bowl of punch, and sat down with as little concern as if nothing had
happened.
Next day he returned to London, acquainted his master with the pre-
tended robbery, and requested his assistance. Mr. Hill gave him the
memorandum he had of the numbers, dates, and sums of the notes, and sent
him to the bank to stop payment ; but, instead of that, he went to 3Ir.
Tufley, a silversmith in Cannon Street, bought a silver tankard, and in
payment, changed one of the notes for a hund'-pd pounds which he had
received the day before at Sir Richard Hoare's ; and on his return to his
master, told him the bank did no business that day, on account of the
hurry the city was in with regard to a fire in Cornhill, which had happened
the night before. He therefore went again tlie following morning, and
when he came back, being asked by Mr. Hill for the paper on which he
had taken down the numbers, (Sire, he said he had left it with the clerks of
the bank, who were to stop the notes, but that he liad taken an exact copy
of it. This, however, was false ; for he had reserved i\Ir. Hill's copy, and
left anotlier at the bank, in which he had so craftily altered the numbers
and dates of the three notes he received at Sir Richard Hoare's, amounting
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 147
to four hundred pounds, as to prevent their being stopped and Mr. Hill
remembering the difference.
On the 2(ith he inserted a list of his notes, being fifteen in all, with their
dates an 1 numbers, in the daily papers, offering a reward of fifty pounds
for the recovery of tlie whole, or in proportion for any part ; but on the
afternoon of the same day he withdrew his advertisement in all the daily
papers, and took his own written copy away at each place. On the 29tli of
March, he put the notice of the robbery and the description of the robbers
in the London Gazette, as the law directs, except that he did not particu-
larize the notes, as he had done in other papers.
On the 12th of May following, he made the proper information before a
justice of the peace ; but though Mr. Plill, his master, was with him, and
had undertaken to manage tlie cause for him, yet he made the same omis-
sion in his information as in his advertisement in the London Gazette.
All things being prepared, on the 18th of July 1748, Chandler's cause
came on at Abingdon, before a special jury ; and, after a hearing of twelve
hours, the jury retired, and then gave the prosecutor a verdict for nine
hundred and seventy pounds, subject, however, to a case reserved for the
opinion of the Court of Common Pleas, concerning the sufficiency of the
description of the bank-notes in the London Gazette.
In the mean time. Chandler, fearing that by what came out upon the
trial he should soon be suspected, and that he might be arrested, obtained
a protection from Lord Willoughby de Broke, and gave out that he was
removed into Suffolk to reside, as he had before pretended, with his rich
uncle ; but in reality he retired to Colchester, where his brother-in-law,
Humphry Smart, had taken an inn, with whom he entered into copartner-
ship, and never came publicly to London afterwards. He was, however,
obliged to correspond with his master, on account of the point of law which
was soon to be argued ; and, therefore, to obtain his letters without dis-
covering his place of abode, he ordered them to be directed " To ^Ir.
Thomas Chandler, at Easton, in Suffolk, to be left for him at the Crown
at Audley, near Colchester."
Mr. Hillhaving writtenseverallettersto Mr. Chandler, pressinghim to come
to town (as the Term drew near), and he evading it by trifling excuses, the
former began to suspect him, even before the point of law was determined.
Just before this period, twelve of the notes of which Mr. Chandler pre-
tended to have been robbed, were all brought to the bank together, having
been bought, October 31, 1748, at Amsterdam, of one John Smitli, by
Barnard Solomon, a broker there, and by him transmitted to his son,
Nathan Solomon, a broker in London. Upon further inquiry, it appeared
that John Smith, who sold the notes, staid but a few days in Holland ;
that he was seen in company with Mr. Casson, a Holland trade r, and came
over in the packet with him. Mr. Casson was then found, and his
description of John Smith answered to the person of Chandler, who was,
in consequence, pressed by letter to come to town and face Casson, to
remove all suspicion ; but he refused.
In the interim, the point of law was argued before the judges of the
Common Pleas, when their determination was to the following cfflct : —
" That, as Chandler had not inserted the numbers of his notes in the
Gazette, nor sworn to them when he made oath before the justice, the
verdict must be set aside and the plaintiti" nonsuited, without the advantage
of a new trial."
" 148 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
But now the scene began to open apace; for about this time the very
paper which Chandler left when he stopped payment of the notes at the
bank, was found ; and upon its being seen by J\lr. Hill, he at once saw
that he had been deceived, and proceeded to take the necessary steps to
secure his apprehension. The whole circumstances attending the case were
soon traced, upon a minute inspection of the bank books, as contrasted
with those of the banking-house of Messrs. Hoare and Co. ; and about
midsummer 1749, Mr. Hill and others set out for Colchester, with a view
of securing the person of the culprit. After a fruitless journey, however,
of about a hundred and fifty miles in search of the fugitive, they returned
to the very inn at Colchester which was kept by the object of their search,
and then departed for London, without gaining any hitelligence. Chandler
having seen his pursuers, thought it prudent to decamp, and proceeded to
Coventry, where he took a small public-house; but being desirous of making
some reparation to his late master, he transmitted to him a hundred and
fifty pounds by letter from Nottingham. By the post-mark of his letter,
he was eventually traced to Coventry, and an indictment for perjury, in
respect of the information on oath, which he gave to the magistrates of the
robbery, having been found against him, he was taken into custody on a
judge's warrant, aud removed to Abingdon, where, on the 2'2d July, 1750,
he was arraigned on the indictment preferred against him. The witnesses
being all in attendance, the prisoner traversed his trial until the next
assizes, in pursuance of a right which he possessed ; but then the facts
already detailed having been proved in evidence, he was found guilty, and
on the 16th July 1751, he was sentenced to be transported for seven years,
having first undergone three months' imprisonment in the County Jail.
MARY BLANDY.
EXECUTED FOR PARRICrDE.
The unhappy subject ot this memoir was a young lady of most respect-
able family, and of superior education, but who, in spite of the exertions of
her parents in her early life to implant in her breast sentiments of piety
and virtue, was guilty of a crime of the most heinous description— the
wilful murder of her father. i\lr. Francis Blandy was an attorney residing
at Henley-on-Thames, and held the oflfice of town-clerk of that place.
Possessed" of ample means, his house became the scene of much gaiety; and
as report gave to his daughter a fortune of no inconsiderable extent, and
as, besides, her manners were sprightly and atiable, and her appearance
engaging, her hand was sought in marriage by many persons whose rank
and wealth rendered them fitting to become her partner for life. But
among all these visitants, none were received with greater pleasure by Mr.
or J\lrs. Blandy, or their daughter, than those who held commissions in the
army. This predilection was evidenced in the introduction of the Hon,
WiUiam Henry Cranstoun, at that time engaged on the recruiting service
for a foot regiment, in which he ranked as captain.
Captain Cranstoun was tlie son of Lord Cranstoun, a Scotch peer of
ancient family, and through the instrumentality of his uncle, Lord Mark
Ker, he had obtained his commission. In the year 1745, he had married
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 149
a youn^ lady of good family named 3Iurray, with whom he received an
ample fortune; and in the year 1752, he was ordered to England to
endeavour to procure his complement of men for his regiment. His bad
fortune led him to Henley, and there he formed an intimacy with ^Miss
rdandy. At this time Cranstoun was forty -six years of age. while Miss
liiandy was twenty years his junior; and it is somewhat extraordinary
that a person of her accomplishments and beauty should have formed a
liaison with a man so much older than herself, and who, besides, is repre-
sented as having been devoid of all personal attractions.
A short acquaintance, it appears, was sufl&cient to excite the flame of
passion in the mind of tlie gallant captain, as well as of Miss Blandy ; and
ere long, their troth was plighted, that they would be for ever one. The
captain, however, felt the importance of forestalling any information which
niio'ht reach the ears of his new love of the existence of any person who
possessed a better right to his affections than she ; and he therefore
informed her that he was engaged in a disagreeable lawsuit with a young
lady in Scotland who had claimed him as her husband ; but he assured her
that it was a mere affair of gallantry, of which the process of the law would
in the course of a very short time relieve him. This disclosure being fol-
lowed by an offer of marriage, Cranstoun was referred to jNIr. Blandy, and
he obtained an easy acquiescence on his part in the wishes expressed by the
young lady.
At this juncture, an intimation being conveyed to Lord Ker of the
proceedings of his nephew, his lordship took instant steps to apprise Mr.
Blandy of the position of Cranstoun. Prejudice had, however, worked its
end as well with the father as the daughter, and the assertion of the intended
bridegroom of the falsehood of the allegations made was sufficient to
dispel all the fears which the report of Lord Ker had raised. But although
Captain Cranstoun had thus temporarily freed himself from the effects of
the imputation cast upon him, he felt that some steps were necessary to get
his first marriage annulled, and he at length wrote to his wife, requesting
her to disown him for a husband. The substance of this letter was, that,
having no other way of rising to preferment but in the army, he had but
little ground to expect advancement there, while it was known he was
encumbered with a wife and family ; but could he once pass for a single
man, he had not the least doubt of being quickly promoted, which would
procure him a sufficiency to maintain her as well as himself in a genteeler
manner than now he was able to do. " All, therefore, (adds he) I have to
request of you is, that you will transcribe tlie enclosed copy of a letter,
wherein you disown me for a husband ; put your maiden name to it, and
send it by the post. All the use I shall make of it shall be to procure my
advancement, which will necessarily include your own benefit. In full
assurance tliat you will comply with my request, I remain your most
affectionate husband."
Mrs. Cranstoun, ill as she had been treated by her husband, and little
hope as she had of more generous usage, was, after repeated letters had
passed, induced to give up her claim, and at length sent the desired com-
munication. On this, an attempt was made by him to annul the marriage,
this letter being produced as evidence ; but the artifice being discovered, the
suit was dismissed, with costs. ]\Ir. Blandy soon obtained intelligence of
thij circumstance, and convinced now of the falsehood of his intended son-
150 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
in-law, lie conveyed a knowledge of it to his daughter; but she and her
mother repelled the insinuations which were thrown out, and declared, in
obedience to what they had been told by the gallant captain, that the suit
was not yet terminated, for that an appeal to the House of Lords would
immediately be made. Soon after this, Mrs. Blandy died, and her husband
began now to show evident dislike for Captain Cranstoun's visits ; but the
latter complained to the daughter of the father's ill-treatment, and insi-
nuated that he had a method of conciliating his esteem ; and tliat when he
Arrived in Scotland he would send her some powders proper for the purpose ;
on which, to prevent suspicion, he would write " Powders to clean the
Scotch pebbles."
Cranstoun sent her the powders, according to promise, and Mr. Blandy
being indisposed on the Sunday se'nnight before his death, Susan Gunnel,
a maid-servant, made him some water-gruel, into which Miss Blandy con-
veyed some of the powder, and gave it to her father ; and repeating this
draught on the following day, he was tormented with the most violent pains
in his bowels.
The disorder, which had commenced with symptoms of so dangerous a
character, soon increased ; and the greatest alarm was felt by the medical
attendants of the old gentleman, that death alone would terminate his suf-
ferings. Every effort was made by which it was hoped that his life could
be saved ; but at length, when all possibility of his recovery was past,
his wretched daughter rushed into his presence, and in an agony of tears
and lamentations, confessed that she was the author of his sufferings and
of his inevitable death. Urged to account for her conduct, which to her
father appeared inexplicable, she denied, with the loudest asseverations, all
guilty intention. She repeated the tale of her love, and of the insidious arts
employed by Cranstoun, but asserted that she was unaware of the deadly
nature of the powders, and that her sole object in administering them was
to procure her father's affection for her lover. Death soon terminated the
accumulated misery of the wretched parent, and the daughter had scarcely
witnessed his demise, ere she became an inmate of a jail.
At the ensuing assizes at Oxford, Miss Blandy was indicted for the
wilful murder of her father, and was immediately found guilty, upon the
confession which she had made. She addressed the jury at great length,
repeating the story which she had before related ; but all was of no avail,
and sentence of death was passed.
After conviction, the wretched young woman behaved with the utmost
decency and penitence. She spent the night before her execution in devo-
tion ; and at nine in the morning of the 6th of April 1752, she left her
apartment to ba conducted to the scaffold, habited in a black bombasin
dress, her arms being bound with black ribands. On her ascending the
gallows, she begged that she might not be hanged high, " for the sake of
decency ;" and on her being desired to go a little higher, expressed her fear
that she should fall. The rope being put round her neck, she pulled her
handkerchief over her face, and was turned off on holding out a book of
devotions, which slie had been reading.
The crowd of sjiectators assembled on this occasion was immense ; and
when she ha^l hung the usual time she was cut down, and the body being
put into a hearse, was conveyed to Henley, and interred with her parenta,
at one o'clock on the following morning.
THE NEVV NEWGATE CALENDAR. 151
It vvill be proper now to return to Cranstoun, who was the original
contriver of this liorrid murder. Having heard of Miss Blandy's comtnit-
nient to Oxford jail, he concealed himself some time in Scotland, and then
escaped to Boulogne, in Franco. Meeting there with Mrs. Ross, who wa?
distantly related to his family, he acquainted her witli his situation, and
heo-oed lier protection ; on which she advised him to change his name for
her maiden name of Dunbar. Some officers in the French service, who
were related to his wife, hearing of his concealment, vowed revenge, if
they should meet with him, for his cruelty to the unhappy woman : on
which he fled to Paris, from whence he went to Furnes, a town in Flanders,
where ]\Irs. Ross had provided a lodging for his reception. He had not
been long at Furnes when he was seized with a severe fit of Illness, which
brought him to a degree of reflection to which he had been long a stranger.
At length he sent for a father belonging to an adjacent convent, and
received absolution from his. hands, on declaring himself a convert to the
Romish faith.
Cranstoun died on the 30th of November, 1752 ; and the fraternity of
monks and friars looked on his conversion as an object of such importance,
tiiat solemn mass was sung on the occasion, and the body was followed to
tho grave not only by the ecclesiastics, but by the magistrates of the town.
JOHN M'CANELLY AND LUKE MORGAN.
EXECUTED FOR BURGLARY.
These men were of that class who usually visit England during harvest,
from the sister kingdom, and who, if they possessed honesty, would prove
most useful to the community of this country.
It appeals that in the year 1751, I\Ir. Porter, a farmer of great
respectability, residing in Cheshire, had engaged a number of Irish people
to assist in gathering his harvest, when ou one evening in the month of
August he was alarmed, while sitting at supper, by hearing that they had
attacked his house. Every effort was employed by him and his family to
oppose the entry of their assailants, but their power being small, in the
course of a few minutes the doors were burst in, and they found tliemselves
surrounded by a gang, whose ferocious demands for money or blood
convinced them of the uselessness of resistance. Mr. Porter, however, for
a while delayed meeting the demands which were made upon him, in the
hope that some assistance might arrive ; but his ruffian assailants bound
him with cords, and threatened instant destruction '*" his money and plate
were not instantlj' brought forth. Miss Porter at this moment made her
appearance, supplicating for the life of her parent, when she in turn was
seized and Ijouiid, and was compelled to discover the chest in which the
valuables were kept.
In the confusion created by these proceedings, the youngest daughter, a
girl of thirteen, whose presence of mind and courage were alike admirable,
made her escape, and determined to px'ocure some assistance to repel the
attack which had been made ; and running into the stable, she got astride
the bare back of a horse, with the halter only in his mouth, and galloping
over hedges and ditches, so as to avoid the house, from which she miglit
i52 IHE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
be seen by the villains, she rode to Pulford, a village at a short distance,
to inform her eldest brother of the danger to which their relations at the
farm were exposed. Young Porter, with a friend named Craven, (whose
conduct certainly was the very opposite of his name,) immediately resolved
upon attacking the villains in turn, and, with the girl, set off at full speed
to render such aid as lay in their power. On their reaching the farm,
they discovered a fellow on the watch, whom they instantly killed with so
little noise as to create no alarm, and then proceeding to the parlour, they
found four others in the very act of placing old ]Mr. Porter on the fire,
having deprived him of his clothes, in order to extort from him a confession
of the depository of his money, his daughter being on her knees at their
side praying for his life. The appearance of two strangers was sufficient
to induce the villains at once to desist from their horrid purpose ; and
being now violently attacked, they were compelled to use their utmost
exertions to defend themselves. A desperate conflict took place, but one
of the robbers being felled senseless to the ground, and the others wounded
and deprived of their arms, they jumped through the window and ran off.
They were instantly pursued by the young men, and the alarm having
by this time been given, INPCanelly and jMorgan were secured on Chester
bridofe, havino- a silver tankard in their possession which they had stolen
from 3Ir. Porter's house. A fellow named Stanley, who turned out to be
ringleader in this desperate attack, was subsequently apprehended on board
a vessel bound for the West Indies, at Liverpool : and with 31'Canelly,
jMorgan, and a youth named Boyd, who had been left in the house, was
committed to Chester jail for trial.
They were indicted at the ensuing assizes held in !March, 17.t2, and
after a lonw investigation, were found guilty and sentenced to death ; but
Boyd, in whose case some mitigating circumstances were proved, was
respited, and his punishment eventually comnmted to transportation
for life.
On the night before the execution, Stanley shpped his irons, and got
clear off from the jail, not without some suspicion that his escape was
connived at by the keeper.
On the 23th jMay, 1752, ]\I'Canelly and Morgan were brought out of
prison in order to be hanged. Their behaviour was as decent as could be
expected from persons of their station. They both declared that Stanley,
who escaped, was the sole contriver of the robbery. They died in the
Catholic faith, and were attended by a priest of that persuasion.
ELIZABETH JEFFRIES AND JOHN SWAN.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
The case of these offenders is one of the greatest atrocity. It appears
that the female was the niece of a gentleman of respectability residing at
Walthamstow, who, having acquired an ample fortune, and having no
children, adopted his brother's daughter, and made a will in her favour,
bequeathing to her nearly his whole estate. The girl, however, returned
her uncle's kindness with ingratitude, aiul having heard him declare that
he would alter his will on account of her bad behaviour, she determined to
— «?ii5^
';<^,^,«^',5^9^ ^.Ji^'i^^ yffaA/i^iny a/^a^- lii4i'-■l:^^iUi^A^ o/^ --^/^
THE NEW NEWfJATE CALENDAR. 153
preveiit his carrying liis design to her detriment into execution by mur-
dering him. She soon discovered her inability to complete this project
sinffie-handed, and she gained the assistance of her accomplice in the crime,
Jolm Swan, who was in the employment of her uncle, and with whom
there is good reason to believe she was on terms of intimacy. They
endeavoured to suborn a simple fellow named Matthews to assist them, but
although the promise of a large reward at first staggered him, his terrors
eventually steeled him against the temptations held out to him. The
night of the 3rd July, 1731, was fixed upon for the completion of this
villany ; and at the trial, which took place at Chelmsford, before !Mr.
Justice Wright, on the 11th 3Iarch, 1752, the follov.'ing facts were proved :
[Matthews having travelled from Yorkshire was accidentally met in
Epping Forest by Mr. Jeffries, who gave him employment as an assistant
to Swan, who was his gardener. After he had been at work only four
days, he was sent up stairs by Miss Jeffries to wipe a chest of drawers,
and she followed him, and asked him if he was willing to earn one hundred
pounds ? He answered that he was, " in an honest way ; " on whicli
she desired him to go to Swan. He accordingly joined him in the garden,
and he offered him seven hundrei pounds to murder their master.
He acquiesced ; and on his being dismissed two days afterwards. Swan
gave him half a guinea to buy a brace of pistols ; but having spent the
money given to him, he was ordered to meet ]\Iiss Jeffries and Swan at
Walthamstow on the Tuesday following, at ten o'clock at night, the object
being then to carry out their intentions with respect to the murder.
When he arrived, he found the garden door on the latch ; and going into
the pantry, he hid himself behind a tub till about eleven o'clock, when Swan
brought him some cold boiled beef. About twelve jMiss Jeffries and Swa,n
came to him ; when the latter said, " Now it is time to knock the old
miser, my master, on the head ;" but [Matthews relented and said, " I can-
not find it in my heart to do it.'' 3Iiss Jeffries then immediately replied,
" You may be d — d for a villain, for not performing your promise !' And
Swan, who was provided with pistols, also loudly abused him, and said he
had a mind to blow his brains out for the refusal. Swan then produced a
book, and insisted that [Matthews should swear that he would not discover
what had passed : and he did so, with this reserve, " unless it was to save
his own life." Soon after this Matthews heard the report of a pistol ;
when getting out of the house by the back waj , he crossed the ferry, and
proceeded to Enfield Chase. Immediately afterwards Miss Jeffries
appeared at the door of the house, and called out for assistance, and some of
the neighbours going in, they found jMr. Jeffries dying, but they failed in
discovering any thing which could lead to the supposition of any person
having quitted the house. Violent suspicions in consequence arose, and [Miss
Jeffries was taken into custody, but no evidence arising to criminate her,
she was discharged, and immediately administered to her uncle's estate and
took possession of his property. Renewed suspicions, however, were
raised, and Matthews having been discovered, Jeft'ries and Swan were
apprehended. Upon this testimony a verdict of Guilty was returned
After conviction Elizabeth Jeffries made the following confession : —
" I, Elizabeth Jeffries, do freely and voluntarily confess that I first
enticed and persuaded John Swan and Thomas Matthews to undertake and
perpetrate the murder of my deceased imcle, which they both consented to
VOL. I. X
154 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
do tlie first opportunity. That on the third day of July 1751, myself and
John Swan (Matthews, to my knowledge, not being in the house) agreed to
kill my said uncle ; and, accordingly, after the maid was gone to bed, 1
went into John Swan's room, and called him, and we went down together into
the kitchen, and having assisted Swan in putting some pewter and other
things into a sack, I said I could do no more, and then I went into my
room ; and afterwards Swan came up, as I believe, and went into my
uncle's room and shot him ; which done, he came to my door and rapped.
Accordingly I went out in my shift, and John Swan opened the door and
let me out. That done, I alarmed the neighbourhood. And I do solemnly
declare that I do not know that any person was concerned in the murder of
my deceased uncle bvit myself and John Swan; for that Matthews did net
come to my uncle's house the day before, or night in which the murder was
committed as I know of. " Elizabeth Jeffries.
" Takeu aud acknowledged March 12, 1752."
Swan for some time expressed great resentment at Miss JeflFries's confes-
sion ; but when he learned that he was to be hung in chains he began to
relent, and seemed at length to behold his crime in its true light of
enormity.
On the day of execution the convicts left the prison at four in the morning.
Miss Jeffries being placed in a cart and Swan on a sledge. The unfortu-
nate woman repeatedly fainted on her way to the gallows ; and having
fallen into a fit, had not recovered when she was turned off. The execution
took place near the six -mile-stone on Epping Forest on the 28th of jNIarch
1752; and the body of Miss Jeffries having been delivered to her friends
for interment, the gibbet was removed to another part of the forest, where
Swan was hung in chains.
DOCTOR ARCHIBALD CAMERON.
EXECUTED FOR HIGH TREASON.
The Scottish rebellion had been suppressed nearly eight years, and
England had, during that time, enjoyed internal peace, when Doctor
Cameron fell a victim to liis exertions in the caust; of the Pretender. Doctor
Cameron was the brcjther of the chief of the Highland clan of the same
name ; and it appears that having studied successively at Glasgow, Edin-
burgh, Paris, and Leyden, he returned to Scotland admirably qualified to
practise the profession of medicine, to which he had been brought up.
Althouoh educated in a manner which rendered him fit to mix in the best
society of the day, he took up his residence in the district of Lochaber,
where, in a short time, he was married to a lady of respectable family.
Universally esteemed, and beloved by his neighbours for his zealous and
efiectual services in the civilisation of the manners of his countrymen, and
for his generous conduct in the attendance of the sick poor, he was residing
in the bosom of his family, when the rebelUon of 1745 broke out, which
laid waste the country, and introduced misery and wretcliedness to many a
happy home. The cliief of the Camerons was a zealous friend to Prince
Charles ; and although he firmly believed that any attempt at the restora-
tion of the Stuart family to the throne of England must prove abortive, yet
being pledged to assist his prince, he generously sacrificed his own feelings,
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 155
and appeared in arms at the head of nearly twelve hundred men. Tims
arrayed he sent for his brother to undertake the medical charge of his troops ;
but althouo^h the doctor urged every argument which could be raised against
so rash an undertaking as that which w^as proposed, he was at length cum-
pelled to forego all further resistance, and to attend tlie army in his profes-
sional capacity, although he absolutely refused to accept any commission.
Thus circumstanced, Doctor Cameron was remarkable throughout the whole
advance and retreat of the rebel army for the humanity and assiduity witli
which he attended all, whether friend or foe, who required his aid. And
when the battle of CuUoden put an end to all the hopes of the Pretender,
lie and his bi'otlier escaped to France in a vessel belonging to that kingdom.
While in France, the doctor was appointed physician to a French regiment,
of which his brother obtained the command ; but the latter dying about
two years afterwards, he joined Ogilvie's regiment in Flanders.
In the meantime proceedings had been taken against the rebel leaders in
England, many of whom had forfeited their lives to the offended laws of
their country, and by an act of attainder passed in the year 1746, for the
effectual punishment of persons concerned in the rebellion, the life of
Doctor Cameron was declared to be forfeited. In the years 1750 and
1752, subscri^^tions were entered into in Scotland for the support of those
]3ersons who had escaped into foreign countries, and Doctor Cameron
having already more than once visited his native country, finally in the
latter year came over to Scotland, for the jDurpose of procuring some
permanent relief for himself and his suffering fellow-countrymen abroad.
Rumours were soon set afloat that he was in Scotland, and a detachment
of Lord George Beaufort's regiment was sent in search of him. Being
made acquainted with the vicinity of his hiding-place, but being unable
for a considerable time to discover its exact locality, the soldiers were
unable to secure their prisoner ; but at length perceiving a little girl, who
appeared to be acting as a scout, they followed her until she met a boy,
who was evidently employed in a similar capacity, to whom they observed
that she whispered something. They directly pursued tlie boy, but being
unable to reach him, they presented their guns, threatening to shoot him
if he did not immediately stop. Having then secured his person, they
menaced him with instant death if he did not inform them of the hiding-
place of Dr. Cameron. The boy pointed to the house where he was
tioncealed, and the unfortunate gentleman was directly placed under arrest,
and was then immediately sent to Edinburgh, and from thence subse-
quently to London, where he was placed in confinement in the Tower.
Upon Ills examination before the Privy Council, he denied that he was the
person mentioned in the Act of Attainder ; but being brought to the bar
of the Court of King's Bench on the 17th of May, he acknov/Iedged that
he was the person who had been attainted ; on which Lord Chief
Justice Lee pronounced sentence in the following terms : — " You. Archibald
Cameron, of Lochiel, in that part of Great Britain called Scotland, nuist
be removed from hence to his Majesty's prison of the Tower of London,
from whence you came, and on Thursday, the 7tli of June next, your body
to be drawn on a sledge to the place of execution, there to be hanged, but
not till you are dead, — your bowels to be taken out, your body quartered,
your head cut olF, and affixed at tlie king's disposal, — and the Lord have
uiercy on your soul !"
156 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
After his commitment to the Tower he begged to see his wife, who was
then at Lille, in Flanders ; and, on her arrival, the meeting between them
was inexpressibly atFecting. The unfortunate lady wept incessantly ; and
on her going to take her final leave of her husband, on the morning of
execution, she was attacked with fits, which left her only after grief had
deprived her of her senses.
On the morning of the 7th June, 1753, the unhappy man was carried to
Tyburn to be executed. He wasdressed in a light-coloured coat, red waistcoat
and breeches, and a new bag- wig. He looked much at the spectators in the
houses and balconies, as well as at those in the street, and bowed to several
persons with whom he was acquainted. He was attended at the scafltbld
by a clergyman of the Church of England ; and before his being turned
off, he declared that he was at peace with all men, and that he died firmly
hopinor for the forgiveness of his sins through the merits of his blessed
Redeemer. When his body had hung during twenty minutes it was cut
down, and the heart was taken out and burned, but the sentence was not
further fulfilled. On the following Sunday, his remains were interred in a
large vault in the Savoy chapel.
Dr. Cameron, it appears, was the last person who suffered punishment
on account of connection with the rebellion of Scotland ; and of all those
who were concerned in it, probably he least of all deserved the unhappy
fate which befel him. The very small, and apparently unwilling par*,
which he took in the proceedings, should have screened him from condign
punishment, more especially at a period when all appearance of discontent
having vanished, no further harm was to be apprehended.
CAPTAIN JOHN LANCEY.
EXECUTED FOR BURNING HIS SHIP.
Captain Lancey was a native of Biddeford, in Devonshire, and was
respec'ably connected. At an early age, he exhibited a predilection for a
seafaring life, and having served his apprenticeship, he was employed as
mate of a vessel belonging to Mr, Benson, a rich merchant of Biddeford,
at that time 31. P. for Barnstaple.
Having married a sister of Benson's, Lancey was soon advanced to the
command of the vessel ; and on his return frcm a voyage, he was surprised
at receiving an order from his emploj'er to refit as soon as possible, Mr.
Benson saying that he would insure the vessel for twice her value, and that
Lancey should destroy her. The latter hesitated at first to assent to this
extraordinary proposition, and for a time the suggestion was not again
mentioned ; but another opportunity being afforded to Benson, on his
brother-in-law dining with him, he plied him with wine, and having
pointed out to him the poverty to which his family might be reduced in
rase of his refusal, by his being dismissed from employment, the unhappy
man at length yielded to his persuasions.
A ship was now fitted out^ and bound for Maryland : goods to a large
amount were shipped on board, but re-landed before the vessel sailed, and
a lading of brick-bats taken in by way of ballart ; and T'he vessel had not
been long at sea before a hole was bored in her side, and a. cask of com-
TOE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. '57
bustlble ingredients set on fire witli a view to destroy lier. The fire no
sooner appeared than the captain called to some convicted transports, then
in the hold, to inqnire if they had fired the vessel ; but this appears to
have been only a feint to conceal the real design. The boat being hoisted
out, all the crew got safely on shore ; and then Lancey repaired imme-
diately to Benson to inform him of what had passed. The latter instantly
despatched him to a proctor, before whom he swore that the ship had
accidentally taken fire, and that it was impossible to prevent the conse-
quences which followed.
The crime was soon afterwards discovered, however, and Lancey was
taken into custody ; but, secure in his anticipation of protection from
Benson, he did not express much concern at his situation. His employer,
in the mean time, was perfectly aware of the consequences which would
fall upon him, and fled to avoid them ; and his unhappy dupe being
brought to trial, was capitally convicted, and received sentence of death.
He subsequently lay in prison for about four months, during which time
he pursued his devotional exercises with the utmost regularity, and was
hanged on the 7th June, 1754, at Execution Dock, in the 27th year of
liis age.
NICOL BROWN.
EXECUTED FOR THE MURDER OF HIS WIFE.
This malefactor appears to have suffered for a crime as savagely ferocious
as it was deliberate. He was a native of Cramond, near Edinburgh, where
he was decently educated, and was apprenticed to a butcher ; but his taste
tending towards a seafaring life, he entered on board a man-of-war as a
sailor, and remained in that situation for four years. On his return, he
married the widowof a respectable butcher, who had left her a decent fortune.
Taking to a habit of drinking, he seldom came home sober at night ; and
bis wife following his example, he used frequently to beat her for copying
his own crime. This conduct rendered both parties obnoxious to their
acquaintance ; and the following revolting anecdote of Brown will incon-
testably prove the unfeeling brutality of his nature.
About a week after the execution of Norman Ross (already mentioned)
for murder. Brown had been drinking with some company at Leith, till, in
the beight of their jollity, they boasted what extravagant actions they could
perform. Brown swore that he would cut ofi" a piece of flesh from the leg
of the dead man and eat it. His companions, drunk as they were, appeared
shocked at the very idea ; while Brown, to prove that he was in earnest,
procured a ladder, which he carried to the gibbet, and cutting ofi" a piece
of flesh from the leg of the suspended body of Ross, brought it back,
broiled and ate it.
The circumstances of tbe crime for which he was executed were as follow.
After liavinw; been drinkin^f at an alehouse in the Canoncrate, he went
lionie at about eleven at night, in a high degree of intoxication. His wife
was also much in liquor; but, though equally criminal himself, he was
exasperated against her, and struck her so violently that she fell from her
chair. The noise of her fall alarmed the neighbours ; but, as frequent
quarrels had happened between them, no immediate notice was taken of the
affair. In about fifteen minutes, the wife was heard to cry out *■• Mard°r '
158 THE NEW NEWGATE CALEXDAR.
lielp ! fire ! the rogue is murdering me !" and the neighbours, now appre-
hending real dangt^r, knocked at tlie door ; but no person being in the house
but Brown and his wife, admission was refused. The woman, mean-
time, was heard to groan most shockingly, and a person looking through
the keyhole, savv Brown holding his wife to the fire. He was called on to
open tiie door, but refused to do so ; and tlie candle being extinguished, and
the woman still continuing her cries, the door was at length forced open.
When the neighbours went in, they beheld her a most shocking spectacle,
lying half naked before the fire, and her flesh in part broiled. In the
interim, Brown had got into bed, pretending to be asleep, aud when spoken
to, appeared ignorant of the transaction. The woman, though so dread-
fully burnt, retained her senses, and accused her husband of the murder,
and told in what manner it was perpetrated. She survived till the follo'.v-
ing morning, still continuing in tlie same tale, and then expired in the
utmost agony.
The murderer was now seized, and being lodged in the jail of Edinburgh,
was broucrht to trial and capitally convicted.
On August the 14th, 1754, he was attended to the place of execution at
Edinburgh by the Rev. Dr. BrovNTi ; but to the last he denied having been
guilty of the crime for which he suffered.
After execution he was hung in chains ; but the body was stolen from
the gibbet, and thrown into a pond, where being found, it was exposed as
before. In a few days, however, it was again stolen; and though a reward
was offered for its discovery, it was not again found.
EDWARD MORGAN.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
The circumstances which came out on the trial of Edward Morgan, at
the assizes of Glamorfian, were these : — According to annual custom, he
had been invited by 3Ir. Rees Morgan, of Lanvabon, his cousin, to spend
the Christmas holidays. He had partaken of the first day's festivity, and
retired to bed along with a young man, apprentice to Mr. Rees Morgan.
Xo sooner had he laid his head upon the pillow, to use his own expression,
than the devil whispered him to get up and murder the whole family, and
he detennined to obey.
He first made an attempt on the apprentice, his bedfellow ; out he
struooled so far as to eifect his escape, and hid himself. The murderer
then provided hhuself with a knife, which he sharpened on a stone as
deliberately as the butcher uses his steel ; and thus prepared, he softly
crept to the bedchamber of his host and hostess, and cut their throats in
their sleep. He then proceeded to the bed of their beautiful daughter, with
whom the monster had but an hour before been sporting and playing, and
with equal expedition, aud by the same means, robbed her of life. Not
satisfied, however, with these deeds of blood, he seized a firebrand, and
]iroceeded to the barn and outhouses, setting fire to them all ; and, to com-
plete the sum of his crime, he fired the dwelling-house, after plundering it
of some articles.
" The Gloucester Journal," of the year 1757, describes the property
consumed by fire on this melancholy occasion to have been " the dwelling-
house, a bam full of corn, a beast-hou^e, with twelve head of cattle in it."
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 159
It was at first conjectured that the unfortunate people had perished in
the conflagration. Their murdered bodies, it is too true, were consutned
to ashes ; but the manner of their death was subsequently proved, partly
by what the concealed apprentice overheard, but chiefly from the murderer's
own confession. Morgan was executed at Glamorgan, April the 6th, 1757
The Rev. JOHN GRIERSON and the Rev. Mr. WILKINSON
TRANSPORTED FOR UNLAWFULLY PERFORMING THE MARRIAGE CEREMONY.
Among the singular customs of our forefathers, arising in a great measure
from their indifference to decorum, one of the most remarkable was
matrimony, solemnised, we were going to say, but the fittest word would
be " performed," by the parsons in the Fleet prison, to which reference has
already frequently been made. These clerical functionaries were dis-
reputable and dissolute men, mostly prisoners for debt, who, to the great
injury of public morals, dared to insult the dignity of their holy profession
by marrying in the precincts of the Fleet prison, at a minute's notice, any
persons who might present themselves for that purpose. No questions
were asked, no stipulations made, except as to the amount of the fee for
the service, or the quantity of liquor to be drunk on the occasion. It not
unfrequently happened, indeed, that the clergyman, the clerk, the bride-
groom and the bride, were drunk at the very time the ceremony was per-
formed. These disgraceful members of the sacred calling had their " plyers,"
or " barkers," who, if they caught sight of a man and woman walking
together along the streets of the neighbourhood, pestered them as the Jew
clothesmen in the present day tease the passers-by in Holywell Street, with
solicitations, not easily to be shaken off, as to whether they wanted a
clergyman to marry them. Mr. Burn, a gentleman who has recently
published a curious work on the Fleet Registers, says he has in his pos-
session an engraving (published about 1747) of" A Fleet Wedding between
a brisk young Sailor and Landlady's daughter at Rederiff." " The print,"
he adds, "represents the old Fleet market and prison, with the sailor,
landlady, and daughter, just stepping from a hackney-coach, while two
Fleet parsons in canonicals are contending for the job. The following
verses are in the margin :
" Scarce had the coach discharg'd its trusty fare,
But gaping crowds surround th' amorous pair ;
The busy Plyers make a mighty stir,
And whisp'ring cry, D'ye want the Parson, Sir?
Pray step this way — just to the Pen in Hand,
The Doctor 's ready there at your command :
This way (another cries). Sir, I declare,
The true and ancient Register is here :
" Th' alarmed Parsons quickly hear the din.
And haste with soothing words t' invite 'em in :
In this confusion jostled to and fro,
Th' inamour'd couple know not where to go ,
Till, slow advancing from the coach's side,
Th' experienc'd matron came, (an artful guide,)
She led the way without regarding cither,
And the first Parson splic'd 'em both togetner. '
IfiO THK NEW KEWGATE CALENDAR.
One of the most notorious of these scandalous officials was a man of the
name of George Keith, a Scotch minister, who, being in desperate circum-
stances, set up a marriage-office in May -Fair, and subsequently in the
Fleet, and carried on the same trade which has since been practised in front
of the blacksmith's anvil at Gretna Green. This man's wedding-business
was so extensive and so scandalous, that the Bishop of London found it
necessary to excommunicate him. It has been said of this person and
" his journeyman" that one morning, during the Whitsun holidays, they
united a greater number of couples than had been married at any ten
churches within the bills of mortality. Keith lived till he was eighty -nine
years of age, and died in 1735. The Rev. Dr. Gaynham, another infamous
functionary, was familiarly called the Bishop of Hell.
'"■ Many of the early Fleet weddings," observes Mr. Burn, " were really
performed at the chapel of the Fleet ; but as the practice extended, it was
found more convenient to have other places, within the Rules of the Fleet,
(added to which, the Warden was forbidden, by act of parliament, to suffer
them,) and, thereupon, many of the Fleet parsons and tavern-keepers in
the neighbourhood fitted up a room in their respective lodgings or houses
as a chapel ! The parsons took the fees, allowing a portion to the plyers,
&c. ; and the tavern-keepers, besides sharing in the money paid, derived a
profit from the sale of liquors which the wedding-party drank. In some
instances, the tavern-keepers kept a parson on the establishment^ at a weekly
salary of twenty shillings ! Most of the taverns near the Fleet kept their
own registers, in which (as well as in their own books) the parsons entered
the weddings." Some of these scandalous members of the highest of all
professions were in the habit of hanging signs out of their windows with
the words " Weddings performed cheap here."
Keith, of whom we have already spoken, seems to have been a bare-
faced profligate ; but there is something exceedingly affecting in the stings
of conscience and forlorn compunction of one Walter AVyatt, a Fleet
parson, in one of whose pocket-books of 1716 are the following secret (as
he intended them to be) outpourings of remorse : —
" Give to every man his due, and learn y^ way of Truth."
" Tliis advice cannot be taken by those that are concerned in y* Fleet
marriages; not so much as y" Priest can do y^ thing y' it is just and right
there, unless he designs to starve. For by lying, bullying, and swearing,
to extort money from the silly and unwary people, you advance your
business and get y^ pelf, which always wastes like snow in sunshiney day."
" The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. The marrying in
the Fleet is the beginning of eternal woe."
" If a clerk or plyer tells a lye, you must vouch it to be as true as y^
Gospel, and if disputed, you must affirm with an oath to y^ truth of a
downriglit damnable falsehood. — Virtus laudatur & algef."*
" May God forgive me what is past, and give me grace to forsake such
a wicked place, where truth and virtue can't take place unless you are
resolved to starve."
* " On Saturdaj' last a Fleet parson was convicted before Sir Ric. Brocas of forty-three
oatlis, (on the information of a plver for weddings there,) for which a warrant was granted to
levy Al. 6s. on the goods of the said parson ; but, upon application to his Worship, he was
pleased to remit 1*. pci oith ; upon which tiie plyer swore he would swear no more against
any man upon the lilie occasion, finding he could get nothing bv ii,'' — Grub-Street Journal,
20 Julj/, 1732.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 161
But this very man, whose sense of his own disgrace was so deep and
apparently so contrite, was one of tlie most notorious, active, and money-
making of all the Fleet parsons. Ilis practice was cliiefly in taverns, and
he has been known to earn nearly sixty pounds in less than a month.
With such facilities for marriage, and such unprincipled ministers, it
may easily be imagined that iniquitous schemes of all sorts were perpetrated
under the name of Fleet weddings. The parsons were ready, for a bribe,
to make false entries in their registers, to ante-date weddings, to give
fictitious certificates, and to marry persons who would declare only the
initials of their names. Thus, if a spinster or widow in debt desired to
cheat her creditors by pi'etending to have been married before the debt
was contracted, she had only to present herself at one of the marriage-
houses in the Fleet, and, upon payment of a small additional fee to the
clergyman, a man could instantly be found on the spot to act as bridegroom
for a few shillings, and the worthless chaplain could find a blank place in
his Register for any year desired, so that there was no difficulty in making
the necessary record. They would also, for a consideration, obliterate any
given entry. The sham bridegrooms, under different names, were married
over and over again, with the full knowledge of the clerical practitioners.
If, in other instances, a libertine desired to possess himself of any young
and unsuspecting woman, who would not yield without being married,
nothing was easier than to get the service performed at the Fleet without
even the specification of names ; so that the poor girl might with impunity
be shaken off at pleasure. Or if a parent found it necessary to legiti-
matise his natural children, a Fleet parson could be procured to give a
marriage-certificate at any required date. In fact, all manner of people
presented themselves for marriage at the unholy dens in the Fleet taverns, —
runaway sons and daughters of peers, — Irish adventurers and foolish rich
widows, — clodhoppers and ladies from St. Giles's, — footmen and decayed
beauties, — soldiers and servant-girls, — boys in their teens and old women
of seventy, — discarded mistresses, " given away" by their former admirers
to pitiable and sordid bridegrooms, — night-wanderers and intoxicated
apprentices, — men and women having already wives and husbands, — young
heiresses conveyed thither by force, and compelled, in terrorem^ to be
brides, — and common labourers and female paupers dragged by parish-
officers to the profane altar, stamed by the relics of drunken orgies, and
reeking with the fumes of liquor and tobacco ! Nay, it sometimes hap-
pened that the " contracting parties" would send from houses of vile repute
for a Fleet parson, who could readily be found to attend even in such
places and under such circumstances, and there unite the couple in
matrimony !
Of what were called the " Parish Weddings" it is impossible to speak
in terms of sufficient reprobation. Many of the churchwardens and over-
seers of that day were in the frequent practice of " getting up" marriages
in order to throw their paupers on neighbouring parishes. For example,
in the Daily Post of the 4th July, 1741, is the following paragraph : —
" On Saturday last the churchwardens for a certain parish in the city,
in order to remove a load from their own shoulders, gave forty shillings,
and paid the expense of a Fleet marriage, to a miserable blind youth,
known by the name of Ambrose Tally, wlio plays on the violin in IMoor-
ficlds, in order to make a settlement on the wife and future family in
VOL. I. Y
192 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
Shorediich parish. To secure their point they sent a parish-officer to see
the ceremony performed. One cannot but admire the ungenerous pro-
ceeding of this city parish, as well as their unjustifiable abetting and
encouraging an irregularity so much and so justly complained of, as these
Fleet matches. Invited and iminvited were a great number of poor
wretclies, in order to spend the bride's parish fortune."
In the G}'uh Street Journal for 173.3, is the following letter, faithfully
describing, says Mr. Burn, the treachery and low habits of the Fleet
parsons : —
" Sir, — There is a very great evil in this town, and of dangerous
consequence to our sex, that has never been suppressed, to the great
prejudice and ruin of many hundreds of young people every year, which I
beg some of your learned heads to consider of, and consult of proper ways
and means to prevent for the future. I mean the ruinous marriages that
are practised in the liberty of the Fleet and thereabouts, by a set of
drunken swearing parsons, with their myrmidons, that wear black coats,
and pretend to be clerks and registers to the Fleet. These ministers of
wickedness ply about Ludgate-hill, pulling and forcing people to some
pealing ale-house or a brandy-shop to be married, even on a Sunday
stopping them as they go to church, and almost tearing their clothes oft"
their backs. To confirm the truth of these facts I will give you a case or
two which lately happened.
" Since Midsummer last a young lady of birth and fortune was deluded
and forced from her friends, and, bj'^ the assistance of a wry-necked swearing
parson, married to an atheistical wretch, whose life is a continued practice
of all manner of vice and debauchery. And since the ruin of my relation,
another lady of my acquaintance had like to have been trepanned in the
following manner. This lady had appointed to meet a gentlewoman at the
Old Playhouse in Drury-lane, but extraordinary business prevented her
coming. Being alone when the play was done, she bade a boy call a coach
for the city. One dressed like a gentleman helps her into it, and jumps
in after her. ' Madam,' says he, ' this coach was called for me, and since
the weather is so bad, and there is no other, I beg leave to bear you
company. I am going into the city, and will set you down wherever you
please.' The lady begged to be excused ; but he bade the coachman drive
on. Being come to Ludgate-hill, he told her his sister, who waited his
coming but five doors up the court, would go with her in two mir^utes.
He went, and returned with his pretended sister, who asked her to stOj. in
one minute, and she would wait upon her in the coach. Deluded with
the assurance of having his sister's company, the poor lady foolishly
followed her into the house, when instantly the sister vanished, and a
tawny fellow in a black coat and black wig appeared. ' Madam, you are
come in good time ; the Doctor was just a-going.' — ' The Doctor I' says
she, horribly frighted, fearing it was a madhouse : ' what has tlie Doctor
to do with me ?' — ' To marry you to that gentleman. The Doctor lias
waited for you these three hours, and will be payed by you or that gentle-
man before you go !' — ' That gentleman,' says she, recovering herself, ' is
worthy a better fortune than mine,' and begged hard to be gone. But
Doctor "Wryneck swore she should be married, or if she would not, he
would still have his fee, and register the marriage from that night. The
lady, finding she could not escape without money or a pWp-y, told them
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 163
she liked the gentleman so well, she would certainly meet him to-morrovv
night, and gave tliem a ring as a pledge, which, says she, ' was my mother's
gift on her death-bed, enjoining that if ever I married it should be my
wedding-ring.' By which cunning contrivance she was delivered from the
black Doctor and his tawny crew. Some time after this I went with tliis
lady and her brother in a coach to Ludgate-hill in the day-time, to see
the manner of their picking up people to be married. As soon as our
coach stopped near Fleet Bridge, up comes one of the myrmidons. ' Madam,'
says he, ' you want a parson ?' — ' Who are you ?' says I. — ' I am the
clerk and register of the Fleet.' — ' Show me the chapel.' At wliich comes
a second, desiring me to go along with him. Says he, ' That fellow will
carry you to a pedling alehouse.' Says a third, ' Go with me ; he v/iiC
carry you to a brandy-shop.' In the interim comes the Doctor. ' Ma-
dam,' says he, 'I'll do your job for you presently!' — ' Well, gentlemen,'
says I, ' since you can't agree, and I cant be married quietly, I'll put it
off "till another time :' so drove away. Learned sirs, I wrote this in regard
to the honour and safety of my own sex : and if for our sakes you will be
60 good as to publish it, correcting the errors of a woman's pen, you will
oblige our whole sex, and none more than, sir,
" Your constant reader and admirer, " Virtuous."
Such are but a few of the iniquities practised by the ministers of the
Fleet. Similar transactions were carried on at the Chapel in ]\Iay Fair,
the Mint in the Borough, the Savoy, and other places about London ; until
the public scandal became so great, especially in consequence of the
marriage at the Fleet of the Hon. Henry Fox with Georgiana Caroline,
eldest daughter of the Duke of Richmond, that at length, — not, however,
without much and zealous opposition, — a Marriage Bill was passed, enacting
that any person solemnising matrimony in any other than a church or
public chapel, without banns or license, should, on conviction, be adjudged
guilty of felony^ and be transported for fourteen years, and that all such
marriages should he void. This act was to take effect from the 25th of
Marcli, 1734.
Upon the passing of this law, Keith, the parson who has already been
alluded to, published a pamphlet entitled, " Observations on the Act for
Preventing Clandestine Marriages." To this he prefixed his portrait. The
following passages are highly characteristic of the man : —
" ' Happy is the wooing that is not long a-doing,' is an old proverb, and
a very true one ; but we shall have no occasion for it after the 25th day
of March next, when we are commanded to read it backwards, and from
that period (fatal indeed to Old England !) we must date the declension of
the numbers of tlie inhabitants of England." — " As I have married many
thousands, and consequently have on those occasions seen the humour of
the lower class of people, I have often asked the married pair how long
they had been acquainted ; they would reply, som.e more, some less, but
the generality did not exceed the acquaintance of a week, some only of a
day, half a day," &c. — " Another inconveniency which will arise from this
act will be, that the expense of being married will be so great, that few of
the lower class of people can afford ; for I have often heard a Fleet-parson
say, that many have come to be married when they have but had half-a-
crown in their pockets, and sixpence to buy a pot of beer, and for which
they have pawned some of their clothes." — '• I remember once on a time,
164 THE XEW NEWGATE CALF.NDAR.
I was at a public-house at Radcliff, which then was full of sailors and
their girls ; there was fiddling, piping, jigging, and eating : at length,
one of the tars starts up, and says, ' D — n j^e. Jack, I'll be married just
now ; I will have my partner, and ' The joke took, and in less
than two hours ten couple set out for the Fleet. I staid their return.
They returned in coaches, five women in each coach, the tars, some
running before, others riding on the coach-box, and others behind. The
cavalcade being over, the couples went up into an upper room, where they
concluded the evening with great jollity. The next time I went that way
I called on my landlord and asked him concerning this marriage adventure.
He at first stared at me, but recollecting, he said those things were so
freqiient that he hardly took any notice of them ; for, added he, it is a
common thing when a fleet comes in, to have two or three hundred
marriages in a week's time, among the sailors." He humorously concludes,
" If tlie present Act in the form it now stands should (which I am sure is
impossible) be of service to my country, I shall then have the satisfaction
of having been the occasion of it, because the compilers thereof have done
it with a pure design of suppressing my Chapel^ which makes me the
mo^t celebrated man in this kingdom, though not the greatest."
The passing of the Marriage Act put a stop to the marriages at May
Fair; but the day before the Act came into operation (Lady-day 1754)*
sixty-one couple were married there, t
It would exceed the limits of this brief sketch were we to give the
official history of the different scandalous ministers who thus disgraced them-
selves, and impiously trifled with one of our most sacred institvitions. That
some of these wretched adventurers were merely pretended clergymen is
certain ; but it cannot be denied that many of them were actually in holy
orders.
Of this latter class were Grierson and "Wilkinson, the subjects of our
present notice ; and notwithstanding the heavy penalties imposed by the
statute, they were not to be deterred from continuing the daugerous and
unlawful trafilc in which they had been engaged. Wilkinson, who was
the brother of a celebrated comedian of the day, it would appear, was the
owner of a chapel in the Savoy, and Grierson was his assistant ; and their
proceedings- having at length become too notorious to be passed over, pro-
ceedings were instituted against them. Grierson was first apprehended,
and his employer sought safety in flight ; but supposing that he could not
be deemed guilty of any oft'ence, as he had not actually performed the
marriage ceremony, a duty which he left to his journeyman, he returned to
his former haunts. It was not long before he was secured, however, and
having been convicted with Grierson, they were shipped oif as convicts
together to the colonies, in the year 1757.
* In a letter to George Montagu, Esq. dated July 17, 1753, Horace Walpole says : —
" Lady Anne Paulett's daughter is eloped with a country clergyman. The Duchess of
Argyle harangues against the Marriage Bill not taking place immediately, and is persuaded
that' all the girls will go off before next Lady-day."
+ In a letter to George Montagu, Esq. from Horace Walpole, is the following notice of
Keith: " Slrawbeiry Hill, 11th June 1753.
" I shall only tell you a hon mot of Keith's, the marriage-broker, and conclude:
" ' G— d d-^n the Bishops !' said he, (I beg Miss jMontagu's pardon,) ' so they •will
hinder my marrying. Well, let 'em, but Til be revenged : I'll buy two or three acres of
ground, ind by G — d I'll under-bury them all.' "
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 165
WILLIAM PAGE.
EXECUTED FOR HIGHWAY ROBBERY.
William Page was the son of a respectable farmer at Hampton, and
bcino- a lad of promising parts he was sent to London to be educated under
the care of his cousin, a haberdasher. His early life, by the superstitious
believers of old sayings, would be adduced as proof positive of the truth
of the old adage, that " a man who is born to be hanged will never be
drowned;" and although w^e cannot put much faith generally in such
notions, we cannot help in this instance pointing out some peculiarities in
ihe adventures of our hero, which might have been considered by him as a
sufficient indication of his fate. The early chronicler of his life says, that,
during the hard frost In tlie winter of 1739, Page was sliding with other
boys on the canal in St. James's Park, when the ice broke under him, and
he sank ; and the ice immediately closing over him, he must have perished ;
but just at this juncture the ice again broke with another boy near him,
and Page arose precisely at the vacancy made by the latter, and was saved,
although his companion was drowned. The second instance of the inter-
vention of his good fortune occurred in the summer following this singular
escape. Page was then trying to swim with corks in the Thames, when they
slipped from under his arms, and he sank ; but a waterman got him up, and
he soon recovered. On the third occasion he was going up the river on a
party of pleasure, about five years afterwards, with several other young
follows, when the boat overset with them in Chelsea Reach, and every one
in the boat was drowned except Page. But his fourth and last escape from
a watery grave was even more miraculous than any of those which pre-
ceded it. About eighteen months after that which is last related he was
on a voyage to Scotland. The ship in which he sailed foundered in
Yarmouth Roads, and most of the people on board perished ; but another
vessel, observing their distress, sent out a long-boat, by the help of which
Page and a few others saved their 1' ves.
To return, however, to the ordinary events of his life. It appears, that his
cousin having given him employment in his shop, his vanity prevented him
from bestowing that attention on liis business to which it was entitled ; and
his extravagance being checked by his relation, who stopped his pocket-
money in order to curb his refined notions, he had recourse to plunder to
supply his necessities. Money being repeatedly missed from the till, and
all attempts to discover the thief among the servants having fai'ed, suspi-
cion at length rested on our hero ; and his guilt having been distinctly
Droved he was dismissed from his situation fortliwith. An effort which he
made to conciliate his relation after this proved ineffectual ; and Kis father,
who had learned the nature of his irregularities, having refused to render
him any assistance, he at length journeyed to York, and there joined a
company of strolling players. His exertions in his new capacity were not
unsuccessful ; but at length attempting to play Cato while in a state of
intoxication, his character in the play and his condition of pt rson were
found to agree so badly, that he was compelled to be carried from the
stage, and was dismissed from his engagement. He afterwaras went to
Scarborough, where his necessities compelled him to accept a sil nation as
livery-servant with a gentleman ; but his master having been ro>bed on
166 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
;iis way to town, he formed a notion that highway robbery was an easY
and profitable mode of Hving ; and determined tliat so soon as he should
nave the means of starting in the profession, he would become a " gentle-
man of the road" Quitting his master at the end of twelve months, he
oeeanie acquainted with a woman of abandoned character, in conjunction
with whom he took lodgings near Charing Cross, and he then commenced
nighwayman. His first expedition was on the Kentish road ; and meeting
the Canterbury stage near Shooter's-hill, he robbed the passengers of
watches and money to the amount of about thirty pounds ; and then riding
through great part of Kent to take an observation of the cross-roads, he
returned to London. Ife now took lodgings near Grosvenor-square, and
firequenting billiard-tables won a little money, which, added to his former
stock, prevented his having recourse to the highway again for a considerable
time; but at length he met with a gambler who was more expert than him-
self, and stripped him of all his money. He then again sought the road as a
means of subsistence. His exertions were for some time fruitless ; but at
length meeting with a handsome booty, he was emboldened by his success ;
and taking handsome lodgings he soon gained the friendship of some young
men of fashion. His next object was to improve his mind and person ;
and having gained some knowledge, by dint of impudence and through a
pleasing exterior he got introduced into decent society.
By this time, he had drawn, from his own observation and for his private
Qse, a most curious map of the roads twenty miles round London ; and,
driving in a phaeton and pair, he was not suspected for a highwayman.
In his excursions for robbery he used to dress in a laced or embroidered
frock, and wear his hair tied behind ; but when at a distance from London,
he would turn into some unfrequented place, and, having disguised himself
in other clothes, with a grizzle or black wig, and saddled one of his horses,
he would ride to the main road, and commit a robbery. This done, he
hastened back to the carriage, resumed his former dress, and drove to town
again. He was frequently ca\itioned to be on his guard against a high-
wayman, who might meet and rob hira : " No, no," said he, " he cannot
do it a second time, unless he robs me of my coat and shirt, for he hius
taken all my money already."
He had once an escape of a very remarkable kind : — Having robbed a
gentleman near Putney, some persons came up at the juncture, and pursued
liim so closely that he was obliged to cross the Thames for his security. In
the interim, some haymakers crossing the field where Page's carriage was
left, found and carried oil* his gay apparel ; and the persons who had pur-
sued him, meeting them, charged them with being accomplices in the
robbery. A report of this affair being soon spread, Paye heard of it, and
throwing his clothes into a well, he went back almost naked, claimed the
carriage as his own, and declared that the men had stripped him, and
throAATi him into a ditch. All the parties now went before a justice of the
peace ; and the maker of the carriage appearing, and declaring that it was
the property of Mr. Page, the poor haymakers were committed for trial ;
but obtained their liberty after the next assizes, as Page did not appear to
prosecute.
After this, he made no farther use of the phaeton as a disguise for his
robberies ; but it served him occasionally on parties of pleasure, which he
sometimes took with a girl whom he had then in keeping.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 167
Pa'5'e was passionately fond of play, and his practice this way was occa-
sionally attended with good fortune. One night he went to the masquerade
with only ten guineas, but joining a party at cards, he won above five
hundred pounds ; but this money was no sooner in his possession, than a
lady, most magnificently dressed, made some advances to him, on which he
put the most favourable construction. After some conversation, she told
him tliat her mother was a widow who would not admit of his visits ; but
tliat possibl)^ he might prevail on her attendant, whose husband was a
reputable tradesman, to give them admission to her house.
Pa^e, who had repeatedly heard the other address her by the title of
" My lady," became very importunate with the good woman to grant this
favour ; and at length, all parties having agreed, the servants were called.
Page handed the lady and her attendant into a coach, on which was the
coronet of a viscountess. Two footmen with flambeaux got up behind, and
the coachman was ordered to drive home. The " home " which they
reached, however, was a brothel ; and on the lady quitting him in the
morning, he found that she had been dexterous enough to rob him of his
pocket-book and its contents, which no doubt more than compensated her
for the favour which she had bestowed upon him.
The road and the gaming-table were now his only means of support,
and he found a fitting companion in his proceedings in the person of an old
schoolfellow named Darwell, in conjunction with wliom, in the course of
three years, he committed upwards of three hundred robberies. At length,
however, their iniquitous proceedings caused an active search to be made
for them ; and Darwell being apprehended, ■•' peached " upon his companion,
and disclosed the places where it was most likely that he would be found.
The consequence was, that Page was apprehended at the Golden Lion,
near Hyde Park, when three loaded pistols were found on him, with
powder, balls, a wig to disguise himself, and the correct map of the roads
round London which we have already mentioned.
He was sent to Newgate, and an advertisement inserted in the papers,
requesting such persons as had been robbed to attend liis re-examinatiun
but he denied all that was alleged against him ; and, as he was always
disguised when he committed any robbery, no person present could identify
his person.
He was tried at length on suspicion of robbing Mr. Webb in Belfourd
Lane, but acquitted for want of evidence ; and after this he was tried at
Hertford, but again acquitted for a like reason.
From Hertford he was removed to Maidstone jail, and being tried at
Rochester for robbing Captain Farrington on Blackheath, he was capitally
convicted, and received sentence of death. After conviction he acknow-
ledged his guilt, yet exerted himself in the most strenuous manner to
procure a pardon. He wrote to a nobleman with this view, and also sent
a letter to a gentleman with whom he had lived as a servant, begging his
interest that he might be sent to America as a foot-soldier ; bat his endea-
vours proved fruitless, and he was ordered for execution.
This extraordinary malefactor suffered at Maidstone on the 6th o(
April, 1758.
168 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
EUGENE ARAM.
EXECUTED rOR MURDER.
"We are now arrived at that period which brings to our view perhaps
the most remarkable trial in our whole Calendar The offender was a man
of extraordinary endowments and of high education, and therefore little to
be suspected of committing so foul a crime as that proved against him.
Much has been written upon the subject of this murder, and attempts
have been made, even of late years, to show the innocence of Aram. The
contents of the publications upon tlie subject would be sufficient of themselves
to fill our volumes ; and it would be useless to republish arguments, which,
havino- had due circulation and due consideration, have failed in their
object, which was to convince the world that this offender was the victim
of prejudice, and fell an innocent sacrifice to the laws of his country. We
?hall, therefore, abstain from giving this case greater space in our Calendar
■ban that to which it is entitled, as well on account of the peculiarity of
its nature, as of the great interest which its mention has always excited.
The peculiarities of the case are twofold ; first, the great talents of the
offender, and secondly, the extraordinary discovery of the perpetration of the
murder, and of the evidence which led to the conviction of the murderer.
On the former point, indeed, some seem to have entertained a doubt ; for about
thirty years after his execution, his name being inserted among the literary
characters of the country, in the " Biographia Britannica," and his high
erudition being mentioned, a pamphlet was put forth, complaining of this
step on the part of the editors of that work, and accusing them of a want of
impartiality in affording their meed of praise to Aram, and wnthholding it
from Bishop Atherton, who also met with an ignominious death. The
charo-e was, however, answered more ably than it was made ; and as it
may prove interesting to our readers, we shall subjoin the refutation to the
complaint, which appears distinctly to support Aram's right to the
character which was originally given to him. It is said : —
" Objections are made to the admission of Eugene Aram into the Biogra-
phia Britannica, and the exclusion of Bishop Atherton ; but it appears to
me that the remarks on this subject are far from being just. The insertion
of Aram is objected to because he was a man of bad principles, and termi-
nated his life on the gallows ; but it should be remembered that it was never
understood that in the Biographia Britannica the fives of virtuous men only
Avere to be recorded. In the old edition are the lives of several persons who
ended their days by the hands of the executioner. Bonner was not a
virtuous man, and yet was very properly inserted, as well as Henry Cuff,
who was executed at Tyburn in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. As to
Eugene Aram, it is truly said of him in the Biographia Britannica, in the
article objected to, that the progress he made in literature, allowing for the
little instruction he had received, may justly be considered as astonishing ;
and that his powers of mind were uncommonly great cannot reasonably be
questioned. Eugene Aram possessed talents and acquisitions that might
have classed him among the most respectable of human characters, if his
moral qualities had been equal to his intellectual. It was certainly the extra-
ordinary talents and acquirements of Eugene Aram which occasioned his
introduction into the Bi^ ^raphia ; and I know that by persons of undoubtea
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 10*9
taste and judgment, the account of him in that work has been thou<^iit a
curious and interesting article. His singular defence alone was well worthy
of being preserved in such a work.
" '\\' ith respect to Bishop Atherton, he never had the least claim to
insertion in such a work as the Biographia Britannica, and was therefore
very properly omitted in the new edition. He was not in the least distin-
guished for genius or learning ; his merely being a bishop could give him
no just pretensions, and still less the unnatural crime for which he suffered.
The friends of Bishop Atherton say that his reputation was suspected to have
been destroyed, and his catastrophe effected, more by the contrivance of a
party than by the aggravated guilt with which he was charo-ed. If this
were perfectly just, which however may be reasonably questioned, it
would not give I3ishop Atherton the least claim to insertion in the Bioora-
phia Britannica. Aram was inserted on account of his uncommon talents
and learning ; but Atherton, who was not distinguished for either, never
iiad the least pretension to be recorded in such a work."
The talents and abilities of this criminal, therefore, seem to be un-
doubted ; but that a man possessing powers of intellect so great should
have been guilty of such a crime as that which he committed, seems
most extraordinary.
AVithin the second peculiarity of the case Avill very properly come the
narrative of the life of its hero, as well as the circumstances attendino- the
commission of the crime and the discovery of its perpetrator. A succinct
description of the case will probably be more intelligible than a detail of
all the exceedingly minute circumstances by which it was surrounded.
Eugene Aram was born at the village of Netherdale, in Yorkshire, in
the year 1704, of an ancient and highly respectable family ; but although
it is shown by the chronicles that one of his ancestors served the office of
high sheriff in the reign of Edward the Third, it appears t!iat at the time
of the birth of Eugene, the vicissitudes of fortune had so f^ir reduced its
rank, that his father was compelled to support himself and his children
by working as a gardener in the house of Sir Edward Blackett ; although
in that situation he was well employed and highly respected. In his
infancy, Aram's parents removed to the village of Shelton, near Newby, in
the same county ; and when about six years old, his father, havino- saved
a small sum of money out of his weekly earnings, purchased a small
cottage at Bondgate, near Rippon. The first indications of that singular
genius which afterwards displayed itself in so remarkable a manner in our
hero, were given while his father was in the service of Sir Edward. Euorene
was employed as an attendant upon that gentleman, and he early displayed
a taste for literature, which was fostered and supported by his indulgent
master. His disposition was solitary, and every leisure hour which
presented itself to him was devoted to retirement and study ; and in the
employment which good fortune had bestowed upon him, ample oppor-
tunities were afforded hrm of following the bent of his inclinations. He
applied himself chiefly to mathematics, and at the age of sixteen he had
acquired a considerable proficiency in them ; but his kind and indulgent
master dying about this time, he was employed by his brother, Mr.
Christopher Blackett, a merchant in London, who took him into his
service as book-keeper. This was an occupation ill suited to his desires,
and au attack of the small pox having rendered liis return to Yorkshire
»70 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
necessary, he did not afterwards resume his employment in London, but
at the invitation of his father he remained at Newby, to pursue his studies.
He now found that the study of mathematics possessed but few charms ;
and the politer subjects of poetry, history, and antiquities, next engaged
his attention. Every day served to increase the store of knowledge which
he possessed, and his fame as a scholar having now extended to his native
place, he was invited to take charge of a school there. The means of
study and of profit appeared to him to be thvis united, and he immediately
accepted the offer which was made ; and after a short time he married a
young woman of the village, to whom he appeared tenderly attached. To
this marriage, however, which proved unhappy, he attributed all his
subsequent misfortunes ; but whether with truth or not, the course of the
narrative does not distinctly disclose. His deficiency in the learned
languages now struck him, and he immediately set about conquering the
difficulties which presented themselves in this new field of research; and so
rapid was his progress, that ere a year had passed, he was able to read
with ease the less difficult of the Latin and Greek historians and poets.
In the year 1734 an opportunity was afforded him of adding a knowledge
of the Hebrew language to his list of acquirements ; for in that year Mr.
William Norton, of Knaresborough, a gentleman of great talents, who had
conceived a strong attachment towards him, invited him to his house, and
afforded him the means necessary for pursuing its study. He continued
in his situation in Yorkshire until the year 1745, when he again visited
London, and accepted an engagement in the school of the Rev. Mr.
Plainblanc, in Piccadilly, as usher in Latin and writing ; and, with this
gentleman's assistance, he acquired the knowledge of the French language.
He was afterwards employed as an usher and tutor in several different
parts of England ; in the course of which, through his own exertions, he
became acquainted with heraldry and botany ; and so great was his
perseverance, that he also learned the Chaldaic and Arabic languages.
His next step was to investigate the Celtic in all its dialects ; and, having
begun to form collections, and make comparisons between the Celtic, the
English, the I^atin, the Greek, and the Hebrew, and found a great affinity
between them, he resolved to proceed through all those languages, and fo
form a comparative lexicon. But, amid these learned labours and
inquiries, it appears that he committed a crime which could not naturally
have been expected from a man of so studious a turn, as the inducement
v/hich led him to it was merely the gain of wealth, of which the scholar
is seldom covetous.
On the 8th of February 1745, in conjunction with a man named Richard
Houseman, he committed the murder for which his life was afterwards
forfeited to the laws of his country. The object of this diabolical crime
was Daniel Clarke, a shoemaker, living at Knaresborough ; and it appears
that this unfortunate man, having lately married a woman of a good family,
industriously circulated a rejiort that his wife was entitled to a considerable
fortune, which he should soon receive. Aram and Houseman, in conse-
quence, conceivinghopes of procuring some advantage from tliis circumstance,
persuaded Clarke to make an ostentatious show of his own riches, in order
to induce his wife's relations to give him that fortune of which he had
boasted. It is not impossible that in giving their subsequent victim this
advice, they may at the time have acted from a spirit of friendship, aud
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 171
•wHKont any intention of committing that crime for which they afterwards
received their reward ; but the beUef that the design was already formed
xereives equal confirmation from subsequent events.
Clarke, it seems, was easily induced to comply with a hint so agreeable
ID his own desires ; and he borrowed, and bought on credit, a large
quantity of silver plate, with jewels, watches, rings, &c. He told the
oersons of whom he purchased, that a merchant in London had sent him
ap. order to buy such plate for exportation ; and no doubt was entertained
of his credit till his sudden disappearance in February 1745, when it was
imagined that lie had gone abroad, or at least to London, to dispose of his
ill -acquired property.
Whatever doubt may exist as to the original intention of the parties,
their object at this time is perfectly clear, and there can be no hesitation
in supposing that Aram and Houseman had at this time determined to
murder their dupe, in order to share the booty. On the night of the 8th
February 1745, they persuaded Clarke to take a walk with them, in
order to consult upon the proper method to dispose of the eftects ; and,
engaged in the discussion of this subject, tliey turned into a field, at a
small distance from the town, well known by the name of St. Robert's
Cave. On their arrival there, Aram and Clarke went over a hedge
towards the cave ; and when they had got within six or seven yards of it.
Houseman (by the light of the moon) saw Aram strike Clarke several
times, and at length beheld him fall, but never saw him afterwards. These
were the facts immediately connected with the murder, which were proved
at the trial by Houseman, who was admitted King's evidence ;^and,
whatever Avere the subsequent proceedings of the parties in respect of the
body, they must remain a mystery.
The murderers, going home, shared Clarke's ill-gotten treasure, the half
of which Houseman concealed in his garden for a twelvemonth, and then
took it to Scotland, where he sold it. In the mean time Aram carried
his share to London, where he sold it to a Jew, and then returned to his
engagement with Mr. Plainblanc, in Piccadilly.
Fourteen years afterwards elapsed, and no tidings being received of Aram,
it was concluded that he was dead ; and these fourteen years had also elapsed
without any clue being obtained to unravel the mystery of the sudden
disappearance of Clarke. The time at length came, however, at which all
the doubts which existed upon both subjects were to be solved. In the
year 1758, a labourer named Jones was employed to dig for stone in St.
Robert's Cave, in order to supply a limekiln at a place called Thistle Hill,
near Knaresborough ; and having dug about two feet deep, he found the
bones of a human body, still knit together by the ligaments of the joints.
It had evidently been buried double ; and there were indications about it
which could not but lead to the supposition that some unfair means had
been resorted to in order to deprive the living bding of life. The incident
afforded good grounds for general curiosity being raised, and general
inquiry taking place ; and hints were soon thrown out that it might be the
body of Clarke, whose unexpected disappearance was still fresh in the
memory of many, and whose continued absence had been the subject of so
much surprise. Suggestions of his murder which had been thrown out by
Ai'am's wife were called to mind, and a coroner's inquest being lield, she
was summoned. By this time a general impression prevailed tliat the
remains found were those of Clarke,and the testimony of Mrs. Aram greatly
1
172 THE NEW XEAVGATE CALENDAR
confirmed thn idea ^Yllich had gone abroad. 3he deposed that she belv3ved
that Clarke had been murdered by Houseman and her husband, and that they
liad acquired considerable booty for the crime ; but she was unable to give
any account of her husband, or to state whether lie still was in existence oi
not. Inquiries being made, however. Houseman was soon found ; and on
his being brought forward to be examined, he exliibited the utmost confu-
sion. The coroner desired that he would take up one of the bones, probably
with a view of seeing what effect such a proceeding would produce ; and
upon his doing so, he showed still further terror, and exclaimed, '• This is no
more Daniel Clarke's bone than it is mine ! " The suspicions which were
already entertained of his guilt were, in a great measure, confirmed by this
observation ; and it was generally believed that he knew the precise spot
where the real remains of the murdered man were deposited, even if he had not
been a partv to their interment. He was therefore strictly questioned ; and
after many attempts at evasion, he said that Clarke was murdered by
Eugene Aram, and that his body was buried in St. Robert's Cave, but that
the head lay further to the right in the turn near the entrance of the cavern
than the spot where the skeleton produced was found. Search was imme-
diately made, and a skeleton was found in a situation corresponding exactly
with that which had been pointed out. In consequence of this confession
an inquiry was immediately set on foot for Aram, and after a considerable
time he was discovered, occupying the situation of usher in a school at
Lynn in Norfolk.
He was immediately apprehended and' conveyed in custody to York
Castle; and on the 13th of August 1759, he was brought to trial at the
assizes before ]Mr. -Justice Noel. The testimony of Houseman to the facts
which we have described, and of the other witnesses whose evidence was of
a corroborative character, was then adduced ; and from the proof which
was given, it appeared that the share of plunder derived by the prisoner
did not exceed one hundred and fifty pounds.
Aram's defence was both ingenious and able, and would not have
disgraced any of the best lawyers of the day. It is a curious and interesting
address, and we subjoin it as affording the best criterion of the talents
of the prisoner which can well be adduced. He thus addressed the
court : —
" My Lord, — I know not whether it is of right or through some indul-
gence of your lordship that I am allowed the liberty at this bar, and at
this time, to attempt a defence^ incapable and uninstructed as I am to
speak ; since, while I see so many eyes upon me, so numerous and awful a
concourse fixed with attention and filled with I know not what expectancy,
I labour not with guilt, my lord, but with perplexity ; for liaving never
seen a court but this, being wholly unacquainted with law, the customs of
the bar, and all judiciary proceedings, I fear I shall be so little capable of
speaking with propriety in this place, that it exceeds my hope if I shall be
able to speak at all.
" I have heard, my lord, the indictment read, wherein I find myself charged
with the highest crime, with an enormity I am altogether incapable of ; a
fact, to the commission of which there goes far more insensibility of heart,
more profligacy of morals, than ever fell to my lot ; and nothing possibly
could have admitted a presumption of this nature but a depravity not
inferior to that imputed to me. However, as I stand indicted at your lord-
ship's bar, and liave heard what is called evidence adduced in support of
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. ] 73
such a charge, I very humbly solicit your lordship's patience, and beg the
hearing of this respectable audience, while I, single and unskilful, destitute
of friends and unassisted by counsel, say something, perhaps like argument,
in my defence. I shall consume but little of your lordship's time : what I
have to say will be short ; and this brevity, probably, will be the best part
of it : however, it is offered with all possible regard and the greatest sub-
mission to your lordship's consideration, and that of this honourable court.
" First, my lord, the whole tenor of my conduct in life contradicts every
particular of the indictment : yet had I never said this, did not my pitsent
circumstances extort it from me, and seem to make it necessary. Permit
me here, my lord, to call upon malignity itself, so long and cruelly busied
in this pi'osecution, to charge upon me any immorality of which prejudice
was not the author. No, my lord, I concerted no schemes of fraud, pro-
jected no violence, injured no man's person or property. My days were
honestly laborious, my nights intensely studious; and I humbly conceive
my notice of this, especially at this time, will not be thought impertinent
or unseasonable, but, at least, deserving some attention ; because, my lord,
that any person, after a temperate use of life, a series of thinking and
acting regularly, and without one single deviation from sobriety, should
plunge into the very depth of profligacy precipitately and at once, is
altogether improbable and imprecedented, and absolutely inconsistent with
the course of things. Mankind is never corrupted at once. Villany is
always progressive, and declines from right, step by step, till every regard
of probity is lost, and every sense of all moral obligation totally perishes.
" Again, my lord, a suspicion of this kind, which nothing but malevo-
lence could entertain and ignorance propagate, is violently opposed by my
very situation at that time with respect to health ; for, but a little space
before, I had been confined to my bed, and suffered under a very long and
severe disorder, and was not able, for half a year together, so much as to
walk. The distemper left me indeed, yet slowly, and in part — but so
macerated, so enfeebled, that I was reduced to crutches ; and so far from
being well about the time I am charged with this fact, I have never, to
this day, perfectly recovered. Could then a person in this condition take
anything into his head so unlikely, so extravagant ? — I, past the vigour
of my age, feeble and valetudinary, with no inducement to engage, no
ability to accomplish, no weapon wherewith to perpetrate such a deed,
without interest, without power, without motive, without means. Besides,
it must needs occur to every one, that an action of this atrocious nature is
never heard of, but when its springs are laid open. It appears that it was
to support some indolence, or supply some luxury ; to satisfy some avarice,
or oblige some malice ; to prevent some real or some imaginary want : yet
I lay not under the influence of these. Surely, my lord, I may, consistently
with both truth and modesty, affirm thus much ; and none who have any
veracity and knew me, will ever question this.
" In the second place, the disappearance of Clarke is suggested as an
argument of his being dead ; but the uncertainty of such an inference from
that, and the fallibility of all conclusions of such a sort from such a circum-
stance, are too obvious and too notorious to require instances ; yet super-
seding many, permit me to produce a very recent one, and that afforded by
this Castle.
"In June 1737, "William Thompson, for all the vigilance of this place,
174 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
in open daylight and double-ironed, made his escape, and, notwithstanding
an immediate inquiry set on foot, the strictest search, and all advertise-
ment, was never heard of since. If, then, Thompson got off unseen, through
all these difficulties, how very easy it was for Clarke, when none of them
opposed him ! But what would be thought of a prosecution commenced
against any one seen last with Thompson ?
" Permit me next, my lord, to observe a little upon the bones which
have been discovered. It is said (which perhaps is saying very far) that
these are the skeleton of a man. It is possible, indeed, it may ; but is
there any certain known criterion which incontestably distinguishes the
sex in human bones ? Let it be considered, my lord, whether the ascer-
taining of this point ought not to precede any attempt to identify them ?
" The place of their depositum, too, claims much more attention than is
commonly bestowed upon it ; for of all places in the world, none could
have mentioned any one wherein there was greater certainty of finding
human bones than a hermitage, except he should point out a churchyard ;
hermitages, in time past, being not only places of religious retirement, but
of burial too : and it has scarce or never been heard of, but that every
cell now known contains or contained these relics of humanity, some
mutilated and some entire. I do not inform, but give me leave to remind
your lordship, that here sat solitary Sanctity, and here the hermit or the
anchoress hoped that repose for their bones when dead they here enjoyed
when living.
" All the while, my lord, I am sensible this is known to your lordship,
and many in this Court, better than to me ; but it seems necessary to my
case that others, wlio have not at all, perhaps, adverted to things of this
nature, and may have concern in my trial, should be made acquainted with
it. Suffer me then, my lord, to produce a few of many evidences that
these cells were used as repositories of the dead, and to enumerate a few
in which human bones have been foimd, as it happened in tliis question ;
lest, to some, that accident might seem extraordinary, and, consequently,
occasion prejudice.
" i. Tlie bones, as was supposed, of the Saxon saint, Dubritius, were
discovered buried in his cell at Guy's Cliff, near Warwick ; as appears from
the autliority of Sir William Dugdale.
"• 2. The bones thought to be those of the anchoress Rosia were but
lately discovered in a cell at Royston, entire, fair, and undecayed, though
they must have lain interred for several centuries ; as is proved by Dr.
Stukely.
"3, But my own country — nay, almost this neighbourhood — supplies
another instance ; for in January 1747, were found, by Mr. Stovin, accom-
panied by a reverend gentleman, the bones, in part, of some recluse, in the
cell at Lindholm, near Hatfield. They were believed to be those of
William of Lindholm, a hermit, who had long made this cave his habitation.
"4. In February 1744, part of Woburn Abbey being pulled down, a
large portion of a corpse appeared, even with the flesh on, and which bore
cutting with a knife ; though it is certain this had lain above two hundred
years, and how much longer is doubtful ; for this abbey was founded in
1145, and dissolved in 1538 or 1539.
"• What would have been said, what believed, if this liad been an accident
to the bones in question ?
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 175
" Farther, my lord : — it is not yet out of living memory that at a little
distance :rom Knaresborough, in a field, part of the manor of the worthy
and patriot baronet who does tliat borough the honour to represent it in
parliament, were found, in digging for gravel, not one human skeleton only,
but five or six, deposited side by side, with each an urn placed at its head,
as your lordship knows was usual in ancient mterments.
"■ About the same time, and in another field, almost close to this borough,
was discovei-ed also, in searcliing for gravel, another human skeleton ; but
iae piety of the same worthy gentleman ordered botli pits to be filled up
again, commendably unwilling to disturb tlie dead.
" Is the invention of these bones forgotten, then, or industriously con-
cealed, that the discovery of those in question may appear the more
singular and extraordinary ? whereas, in fact, there is nothing extraordinary
in it. My lord, almost every place conceals such remains. In fields, in
hills, in highway sides, in commons, lie frequent and unsuspected bones ;
and our present allotments for rest for the departed are but of some
centuries.
" Another particular seems not to claim a little of your lordship's notice,
and tliat of the gentlemen of the jury ; which is, that perhaps no example
occurs of more than one skeleton being found in one cell : and in the cell
in question was found but one ; agreeable, in this, to the peculiarity of
every other known cell in Britain. Not the invention of one skeleton, but
of two, would have appeared suspicious and uncommon. But it seems
another skeleton has been discovered by some labourer, which was full as
confidently averred to be Clarke's as this. My lord, must some of the
living, if it promotes some interest, he made answerable for all the bones
that earth has concealed and chance exposed ? and might not a place where
bones lay be mentioned by a person by chance as well as found by a
labourer by chance ? or is it more criminal accidentally to name where
bones lie than accidentally to find where they lie ?
" Here too is a human skull produced, which is fractured ; but was
this the cause, or was it the consequence, of death ? was it owing to
violence, or was it the effect of natural decay ? If it was violence, was
that violence before or after death ? My lord, in May 1732, the remains
of William, Lord Archbishop of this province, were taken up, by per-
mission, in this cathedral, and the bones of the skull were found broken ;
yet certainly he died by no violence offered to him alive that could occasion
that fracture there.
" Let it be considered, my lord, that, upon the dissolution of religious
houses and the commencement of the Reformation, the ravages of those
times affected both the living and the dead. In search after imaginary
treasures, coffins were broken up, graves and vaults dug open, monuments
ransacked, and shrines demolished ; and it ceased about the beginning of
the reign of Queen Elizabeth. I entreat your lordship, suffer not the
violence, the depredations, and the iniquities of those times, to be imputed
to this.
" Moreover, what gentleman here is ignorant that Knaresborough had
a castle, which, though now a ruin, was once considerable both for its
strength and garrison ? All know it was vigorously besieged by the arms
of the parliament ; at which siege, in sallies, conflicts, flights, pursuits,
many fell in all the places round it, and, where they fell, were buried, fot
i76 THK NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
every place, my lord, is burial-earth in war ; and many, questionless, of
these rest yet unknown, whose bones futurity shall discover.
" I hope, with all imaginable submission, tliat what has been said will
not be thouglit impertinent to this indictment ; and tliat it will be far
from tlie wisdom, the learning, and the integrity of this place, to impute
to tlie living what zeal in its fury may have done — what nature may have
taken off, and piety interred — or what war alone may have destroyed,
alone deposited.
" As to the circumstances that have been raked together, I have nothing
to observe but that all circumstances whatever are precarious, and have
been but too frequently found lamentably fallible ; even tlie strongest have
failed. They may rise to the utmost degree of probability, yet they are
but probability still. AYhy need I name to your lordship the two
Harrisons recorded by Dr. Howel, who both suffered upon circumstances
because of the sudden disappearance of their lodger, Avho was in credit,
had contracted debts, boiTowed money, and went off unseen, and returned
a great many years after their execution ? Why name the intricate affair
of Jacques de Moulin, under King Charles II. related by a gentleman who
was counsel for the crown ? And why the unhappy Coleman, who suffered
innocently, though convicted upon positive evidence ; and whose children
perished for want, because the Avorld uncharitably believed the father
guilty? Why mention the perjury of Smith, incautiously admitted king's
evidence : who, to sci'een himself, equally accused Faircloth and Loveday
of the murder of Dun; the first of whom, in 1749, was executed at
Winchester ; and Loveday was about to suffer at Reading, had not Smith
been proved perjured, to the satisfaction of the Court, by the governor of
Gosport hospital ?
" Now, my lord, having endeavoured to show that the whole of this
process is altogether repugnant to every part of my life ; that it is incon-
sistent with my condition of health about that time ; that no rational
inference can be drawn that a person is dead who suddenly disappears ;
that hermitages are the constant depositaries of the bones of a recluse ; that
the proofs of this are well authenticated ; that the revolutions in religion,
or the fortunes of war, have mangled or buried the dead ; — the conclusion
remains, perhaps, no less reasonable than impatiently wished for. I, at
last, after a year's confinement, equal to either fortune, put myself upon
the justice, the candour, and the humanity of your lordship ; and upon
yours, my countrymen, gentlemen of the jury."
The delivery of this address created a very considerable impression in
court ; but the learned judge having calmly and with great perspicuity
summed up the evidence which had been produced, and having observed
iqion the prisoner's defence, which he declared to be one of the most
ingenious pieces of reasoning that had ever fallen under his notice, the jury,
with little hesitation, returned a verdict of Guilty. Sentence of death was
then passed upon the prisoner, who received the intimation of his fate with
becomino' resicnation. After his conviction, he confessed the justice of his
sentence to two clergymen who were directed to attend him — a sufficient
proof of the fruitlessness of the efforts to prove him innocent, which the
morbid sentimentality of late writers has induced them to attempt. Upon
an inquiry being made of him as to his reason for committing the crime,
he declared that he had reason to suspect Clarke of having had unlawful
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 177
uitercourse with his wife ; and that at the time of his committing tlie
murder he had thought that he was acting rightly, hut that he liad since
thoucrht that his crime could not be justified or excused. In the hopes of
avoiding the ignominious death which he was doomed to suffer, on the
night before his execution he attempted to commit suicide by cutting his
arm in two places with a razor, wliich he had concealed for that purpose.
This attempt was not discovered until the morning, when the jailor came
to lead liim forth to the place of execution, and he was then found almost
expiring from loss of blood. A surgeon was immediately sent for, who
found that he had wounded himself severely on the left arm, above the
elbow and near the wrist, but he had missed the artery, and his life was
prolonged only in order that it might be taken away on the scaifold.
When he was placed on the drop, he was perfectly sensible, but was too
weak to be able to join in devotion with the clergyman who attended him
He was executed at York on the I'ith August 1759; and his body
was afterwards hung in chains in Knaresborough Forest.
The following papers were afterwards found in his handwriting on the
table in his cell. The first contained reasons for his attempt npon his life,
and was as follows : — " What am I better than my fathers ? To die is
natural and necessary. Perfectly sensible of this, I fear no more to die
than I did to be born. But the manner of it is something which should,
in my opinion, be decent and manly. I think I have regarded both these
points. Certainly no man has a better right to dispose of a man's life than
himself ; and he, not others, should determine how. As for any indignities
offered to my body, or silly reflections on my faith and morals, they are,
as they always were, things indifferent to me. I think, though contrary
to the common way of thinking, I wrong no man by this, and hope it
is not offensive to that eternal Being that formed me and the world : and
as by this I injure no man, no man can be reasonably off"ended. I soli-
citously recommend myself to that eternal and almighty Being, the God
of Nature, if I have done amiss. But perhaps I have not ; and I hope
this thing will never be imputed to me. Though I am now stained by
malevolence and suffer by prejudice, I hope to rise fair and unblemished.
My life was not polluted, my morals irreproachable, and my opinions
orthodox. I slept sound till three o'clock, awaked, and then writ these
lines —
Come, pleasing rest ! eternal slumbers, fall !
Seal mine, that once must seal the eyes of all.
Calm and composed my soul her journey takes;
No guilt that troubles, and no heart that aches.
Adieu, thou sun ! all bright, like her, arise !
Adieu, fair friends, and all that's good and wise!"
The second was in the form of a letter, addressed to a former companion,
and was in the following terms :
" My dear Friend, — Before this reaches you, I shall be no more a
living man in this world, though at present in perfect bodily health : but
who can describe the horrors of mind which I suffer at this instant ?
Guilt — the guilt of blood shed without any provocation, without any cause
but that of filthy lucre — pierces my conscience with wounds that give the
most poignant pains ! 'Tis true the consciousness of my horrid guilt has
given me frequent interruptions in the midst of my business or pleasures ;
but yet I have found means to stifle its clamours, and contrived a momentary
VOL. I. A A
t78 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
remedy for the disturbance it gave me by applying to the bottle or tlie
bowl, or diversions, or company, or business ; sometimes one, and some-
times the other, as opportunity offered : but now all these, and all other
amusements, are at an end, and I am left forlorn, helpless, and destitute of
every comfort ; for I have nothing now in view but the certain destruction
both of my soul and body. My conscience will now no longer suffer
itself to be hoodwinked or browbeat : it has now got the mastery; it is
my accuser, judge, and executioner: and the sentence it pronounceth
against me is more dreadful than that I heard from the bench, which only
condemned my body to the pains of death, which are soon over ; but
conscience tells me plainly that she will summon me before another tribunal,
wliere I shall have neither power nor means to stifle the evidence she will
there bring against me ; and that the sentence which will then be denounced
will not only be irreversible, but will condemn my soul to torments that
will know no end.
" Oh ! had I but hearkened to the advice which dear-bought experience
has enabled me to give, I should not now have been plunged into that
dreadful gulf of despair which I find it impossible to extricate myself
from ; and therefore my soul is filled with horror inconceivable. I see
both God and man my enemies, and in a few hours shall be exposed a
public spectacle for the world to gaze at. Can you conceive any condition
more horrible than mine ? O, no ! it cannot be ! I am determined, there-
fore, to put a short end to trouble I am no longer able to bear, and prevent
the executioner by doing his business with my own hand, and shall by this
means at least prevent the shame and disgrace of a public exposure, and
leave the care of my soul in the hands of eternal mercy. AV^ishing you all
health, happiness, and prosperity, I am, to the last moment of my life,
yours, with the sincerest regard, " Eugene Aram."
It is impossible to view the circumstances of this remarkable case,
without being struck with the extraordinary conduct of Aram. It is
most singular that a man of his talents and mind should have leagued
himself with a person like Houseman, who appears to have been utterly
uneducated, in the commission of a murder, and with the hope only of gain ;
for whatever his declarations after his conviction may have been, as to his
object being revenge only for the supposed injury which had been done
him by his victim in the seduction of his wife, his ready acquiescence in
the plot with another, and his willing acceptance of the plunder which was
obtained, distinctly show that that was not the only end which he sought
to attain. If, indeed, his feelings were outraged, as he suggested, he would
have selected some other mode of obtaining that satisfaction to which the
inj ury alleged would have entitled him ; and it is hardly to be supposed
that he would have obtained the assistance of another to secure the object
which he had in view, more particularly when it appears that it was he
who absolutely committed the foul act, without the immediate aid of
Houseman, — a circumstance which clearly exemplifies the power which he
possessed to dispose of his victim, and which would seem to show a desire
on his part only to obtain the participation of another in a preconceived
act, anticipating doubtless that some aid would be necessary in appro-
priating and disposing of the property which might be procured from the
ileceased, and also that some advice would be requisite in the event of
suspicion attaching to him. But while these circumstances cannot but
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR 179
surprise us, how much more astonishing is the Divine power of Provi-
dence, which disclosed to human eyes, after so long a lapse of time, such
evidence as in the result proved the commission of the crime, and which
secured the seizure of the criminal, who had up to that time remained
unsuspected, and who even then was living in fancied security, free from
all fear of discovery and apprehension ! It is said that
" Murder ! though it have no tongue, will speak
With most miraculous organ :"
and how truly is this observation of the most wonderful of poets exem-
plified by nearly every page of these records of crime !
WILLIAM ANDREW HORNE, ESQ.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
The short notice which we give of this man exhibits a human being
reduced far below the level of a beast.
The subject of the memoir was the eldest son of a gentleman of fortune in
Nottinghamshire, who in vain strove to instil into the mind of his son any
of those principles of rectitude, without which man cannot be considered to
be humanised. The sports of the field, and all the dissipation whicli a
country squire could at that time obtain, formed the amusements of this
reckless youth. His passion for women was unbounded ; but his love of
gold surpassed all the other bad qualities which so peculiarly distin
guished him. It was while his father yet lived that he committed that
crime for which his life was eventually forfeited; and it appears to have
occurred in the following manner : —
His passion for women led him to commit the most disgusting excesses ;
and at length so far had he carried his crimes, that an incestuous connexion
took place between him and his sister, the result of which was the birth of
a boy in the month of February 1724 ; Home told his brother Charles of
the circumstance three days afterwards, and at ten o'clock at night said
that he must take a ride with him. He then put the new-born infant in
a bag ; and, mounting their horses, they rode to Anuesley, in Nottingham-
shire, at the distance of five miles, carrying the child alternately. On their
arrival near the village, William dismounted and inquired if the child was
living ; and being answered in the aflfi.rmative, he took it and told his
brother to wait till he came back. On his return, Charles demanded to
know how he had disposed of the infant ; to which he said that he had
placed it behind a hay-stack, and covered it with hay.
They then returned home ; and it was afterwards learned that the child
died in the course of the night fi'om exposure to the cold ; but in a short
time afterwards a quarrel arising between the brothers, the whole trans-
action was communicated by Charles to his father. The latter enjoined
him to the strictest secrecy ; and this injunction was obeyed up to the time
of the old man's death, which occurred in the year 1747, in the 102nd year
of his age. The real estate of the family, being entailed, then descended to
the eldest son ; but the father had previously made over his personal
property by deed of gift to his son Charles. No sooner had the new squire
assumed tlie government of the estate than he behaved with the utmost
180 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
Siverity towards his brotlier as well as liis tenants ; and at length the
former, rendered miserable by his participation in the horrid act, having
some business to transact with Mr. Cooke, an attorney at Derby, told him
of the long-concealed affair, and asked his advice. The lawyer told him to
go to a justice of the peace and make a full discovery of the whole trans-
action ; and he accordingly went to a magistrate, and acquainted him with
what had happened. He hesitated to take cognizance of the matter, how-
ever, saying that it might hang half the family ; and as it had passed so
many years ago, advised that it might remain a secret.
No further notice of the circumstance Avas then taken until the year
1754, when Charles being suddenly seized with a severe fit of illness, called
in a Mr. White of Ripley, to whom, in anticipation of his death, he disclo-tsed
all that had occurred. Mr. White declined to interfere ; but his patient
almost immediately recovered, declaring that " he had been better ever
since the weight of the transaction had been taken off his mind by his
making the disclosure."
The discovery, however, soon became a matter of notoriety ; and
William Home having a quarrel with a publican named Roe, the latter
called 'him " an incestuous old dog." A suit in the Ecclesiastical Court at
Lichfield was the consequence ; and Roe being unsuccessful, was ordered to
pay all the costs. This circumstance inflamed him with revenge; and
having made such inquiries as persuaded him of the truth of the report
which he had heard, he procured a warrant to be issued for the apprehension
of his late opponent. A constable of Annesley and he in consequence
proceeded to the house of the squire at about eight o'clock in the evening,
and after having experienced considerable difficulty, succeeded in obtaining
admittance. A strict search was then commenced ; but it was not until a
long time had elapsed that they discovered the object of their inquiry
concealed in a large box, which had been described as containing clean
linen. He was immediately carried before two justices, who committed
him to take his trial at the following assizes.
On the 10th of August 17.59, he was brought to trial before Lord Chief
Baron Parker ; and after a hearing of about nine hours, the jury found him
guilty, and sentence of death passed of course.
Home being convicted on a Saturday, was sentenced to die on the
Monday following ; but a number of gentlemen waited on the judge, inti-
mating that he had been so long hardened in iniquity, that a farther time
would be necessary to prepare him for his awful change, and a respite of a
month was in consequence granted.
When this time was nearly expired, he received a reprieve during his
majesty's pleasure ; so that he began to entertain hopes of obtaining a free
pardon : and he employed a considerable part of his time in writing to hi."
friends to make interest to secure this object. He, however, confessed the
justice of his conviction, but seemed little affected by the enormity ot
his crime, and frequently said, " it was d— d hard to suffer on the
evidence of a brother for a crime committed so many years before."
He gave the following account of the transaction : — He said he had no
iesign of destroying the infant, but put it in a bag lined with wool, and
made a hole in the bag that i tmight not be stifled. He added, that the
child was handsomely dressed, and he had intended to have left it at the
door of Mr. Chaworth, of Annesley ; but the dogs barking, and there beii g
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 181
a light in the house, he desisted from his first intention, in the fear of a
discovery. After some hesitation, he said, he resolved to place it under a
warm hay-stack, in the hope that, when the servants came to fodder the
cattle in the morning, it would be found.
He acknowledged to a clergyman who assisted him in his devotions
that he forgave all his enemies, even his brother Charles ; but made the
following strange addition to his speech : " that if, at the day of judgment,
God Almighty should ask him how his brother behaved, he would not give
him a good character."
The hopes of a pardon which he had entertained soon proved unfounded ;
and an order arrived for his execution on the 11th December 1759, on
which day he completed his 74th year, and terminated his life on a scaffold
erected at Nottingham.
LAURENCE, EARL FERRERS.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
Laurence, Earl Ferrers, was a man of singular and most unhappy
disposition. Descended of an ancient and noble family, he was doomed
to expiate a crime, of which he had been guilty, at Tyburn.
It would appear that the royal blood of the Plantagenets flowed in his
veins, and the earl gained his title in the following manner : — The second
baronet of the family, Sir Henry Shirley, married a daughter of the
celebrated Earl of Essex, who was beheaded in the reign of Queen
Elizabeth ; and his son. Sir Robert Shirley, died in the Tower, where la-
was confined during the Protectorate, for his attachment to the cause of
the Stuarts. Upon the Restoration, the second son of Sir Robert succeeded
to the title and estates ; and Charles, an-xious to cement the bonds which
attached his friends to him, summoned him to the Upper House of Parlia-
ment by the title of Lord Ferrers of Chartley, as the descendant of one of
the CO -heiresses of the Earl of Essex ; the title, which had existed since
the reign of Edward IIL, having been in a')eyance siiiC3 t'le death of that
unfortunate nobleman. In the year 1711, Robert, Lord Ferrers, was
created by Queen Anne, Viscount Tamworth and Earl Ferrers ; and it
appears that although the estates of t'.ie fa nil/ were very great, they were
vastly diminished by the provisions which the Ea 1 thought proper to
make for his numerous progeny, consisting of fifteen sons and twelve
daughters, born to him by his two wives. At the death of the first earl,
his title descended to his second son ; but he dying without issue, it went
in succession to the ninth son, who was childless, and the tenth son, who
was the father of the earl, Laurence, the subject of the present sketch.
This nobleman was united in the year 1 752 to the youngest daughter of
Sir William ^leredith ; but although his general conduct when sober was
not such as to be remarkable, yet his faculties were so much impaired by
drink, that when under the influence of intoxication, he acted with all the
wildness and brutality of a madman. For a time his wife perceived
nothing which induced her to repent the step she had taken in being united
to him ; but he subsequently behaved to her with such unwarrantable
cruelty, that she was compelled to quit his protection, and rejoining her
tather's family, to apply to Parliament for redress. An act was in ecu-
182 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
sequence passed, allowing her a separate maintenance to be raised out of
her husband's estate ; and trustees being appointed, the unfortunate Mr.
Johnson, who fell a sacrifice to the ungovernable passions of Lord Ferrers,
having been bred up in the family from his youth, and being distinguished
for the regular manner in which he kept his accounts, and his fidelity as
a steward, was proposed as receiver of the rents for her use. He at first
declined the office ; but subsequently, at the desire of the Earl himself, he
consented to act, and continued in this employment for a considerable time.
His lordship at this time lived at Stanton, a seat about two miles from
Ashby de la Zouch, in Leicestershire ; and his family consisted of Mrs.
Clifford, a lady who lived with him, and her four natural daughters, besides
five men-servants, exclusive of an old man and a boy, and three maids.
Mr. Johnson lived at the house belonging to the farm, which he held
under his lordship, called the Lount, about half a mile distant from Stanton.
It appears that it was "his custom to visit his noble master occasionally,
to settle the accounts which were placed under his care ; but his lordship
gradually conceived a dislike for him, grounded upon the prejudice raised
in his mind on account of his being the receiver of the countess' portion,
and charged him with having combined with the trustees to prevent his
receiving a coal contract. From this time he spoke of him in opprobrious
terms, and said he had conspired with his enemies to injure him, and that
he was a villain ; and with these sentiments he gave him warning to quit
an advantageous farm which he held under his lordship. Finding, how-
ever, that the trustees under the act of separation had already granted him
a lease of it, it having been promised to him by the earl or his relations, he
was disappointed, and probably from that time he meditated a more cruel
revenge.
The circumstances immediately attending the transaction, which termi-
nated in the death of Johnson, are as follow : —
On Sunday the 13th of January 1760, my lord went to the Lount, and
after some discourse with Mr. Johnson, ordered him to come to him at
Stanton on the Friday following, the 18th, at three o'clock in the after-
noon. His lordship's usual dinner- hour was two o'clock ; and soon after
that meal was disposed of, on the Friday, he went to j\Irs. Cliflbrd, who
was in the still-house, and desired her to take the children for a walk. She
accordingly prepared herself and her daughters, and with the permission of
the earl went to her father's, at a short distance, being directed to return at
half-past five. The men-servants were next despatched on errands by their
master, who was thus left in the house with the three females only. In a
short time afterwards Mr. Johnson came according to his appointment, and
was admitted by one of the maid-servants, named Elizabeth Burgeland.
He proceeded at once to his lordship's apartment, but was desired to wait
in the still-house ; and then, after the expiration of about ten minutes, the
earl calling him into his own room, went in with him and locked tlie door.
Being thus together, the earl requu-ed him first to settle an account, and
then charging him with the villany which he attributed to him, ordered
him to kneel down. The unfortunate man went down on one knee ; upon
which the earl, in a tone of voice loud enough to be heard by the maid-
servants without, cried, " Down on your other knee ; declare that you
have acted against Lord Ferrers ; your time is come — you must die :" and
then suddenly drawing a pistol from his pocket, which was loaded, he pre-
''iXi.<:/,y'e^t^e'Z^ ,^€>i?i^-^-a' A<^) ^.^^j^-w^^^
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 183
sented it and immediately fired. The ball entered the body of the unfor-
tunate man ; but he rose up, and entreated that no farther violence might
be done him ; and the female servants at that time coming to the door,
being alarmed by the report, his lordship quitted the room. A messenger
was immediately despatched for Mr. Kirkland, a surgeon, who lived at
Ashby de la Zouch ; and Johnson being put to bed, his lordship went to
him and asked him how he felt ? He answered that he was dying, and
desired that his family might be sent for. Miss Johnson soon after arrived,
and Lord Ferrers immediately followed her into the room where her father
lay. He then pulled down the clothes, and applied a pledget, dipped in
arquebusade water, to the wound, and soon after left him.
From this time it appears that his lordship applied himself to his
favourite amusement, drinking, until he became exceedingly violent (for at
the time of the commission of the murder he is reported to have been sober),
and on the arrival of Mr. Kirkland he told him that he had shot Johnson,
but believed he was more frightened than hurt ; that he had intended to
shoot him dead, for that he was a villain and deserved to die ; " but," said
he, " now I have spared his life, I desire you would do what you can for
him." His lordship at the same time desired that he would not suffer him
to be seized, and declared, that if any one should attempt it, he would shoot
him. Mr. Kirkland, who wisely determined to say whatever might keep
Lord Ferrers from any further outrages, told him that he should not be
seized, and directly went to the wounded man.
The patient complained of a violent pain in his bowels ; and Mr.
Kirkland preparing to search the wound, my lord informed him of the
direction of it, by showing him how he held the pistol when he fired it.
Mr. Kirkland found the ball had lodged in the body; at which his lordship
expressed great surprise, declaring that he had tried that pistol a few days
before, and that it then carried a ball through a deal board near an inch
and a half thick. Mr. Kirkland then went down stairs to prepare some
dressings, and my lord soon after left the room. From this time, in pro-
portion as the liquor which he continued to drink took effect, his passions
became more tumultuous, and the transient fit of compassion, mixed with
fear for himself, which had excited him, gave way to starts of rage and
the predominance of malice. He went up into the room where Johnson
was dpng, and pulled him by the wig, calling him villain, and threatening
to shoot him through the head ; and the last time he went to him he was
with great difficulty prevented from tearing the clothes off the bed, that he
might strike him.
A proposal was made to him in the evening by Mrs. Clifford, that Mr.
Johnson should be removed to his own house ; but he replied, " He shall
not be removed ; I will keep him here to plague the villain." He after-
wards spoke to Miss Johnson about her father, and told her that if he
died, he would take care of her and of the family, provided they did not
prosecute.
When his lordship went to bed, which was between eleven and twelve,
he told Mr. Kirkland that he knew he could, if he would, set the affair
in such a light as to prevent his being seized, desiring that he might see
him before he went away in the morning, and declaring that he would
rise at any hour.
3Ir. Kirkland, however, wa.s very solicitous to get Mr. Johnson removed
i84 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
and as soon as tlie earl was gone, he set about carrying his object iQt3
ctfect. He in consequence went to Lount, and having fitted up an easy-
chair with poles, by way of a sedan, and procured a guard, he returned at
about two o'clock, and carried Mr. Johnson to his house, where he expired
at about nine o'clock on the following morning.
The neiohbours now began to take measures to secure the murderer,
and a few of them having armed themselves, set out for Stanton ; and as
they entered the yard, they saw his lordship, partly undressed, going
towards the stable, as if to take out a horse. One of them, named Spring-
tliorpe, tlien advancing towards his lordship with a pistol in his hand,
required him to surrender ; but the latter, putting his hand towards his
pocket, his assailant, imagining that he was feeling for some weapon of
offence, stopped short and allowed him to escape into the house. A great
concourse of people by this time had come to the spot, and they cried out
loudly that the earl should come forth. Two hours elapsed, however,
before anything was seen of him, and then he came to the garret window
and called out, " Hovp is Johnson?" He was answered that he was dead;
but he said it was a lie, and desired that the people should disperse ; but
then he gave orders that they should be let in and be furnished with
victuals and drink, and finally he w^ent away from the window swearing
that no man should take him. The mob still remained on the spot, and
in about two hours the earl was descried by a collier, named Curtis,
walkino- on the bowling-green, armed with a blunderbuss, a brace of
pistols, and a dagger. Curtis, however, so far from being intimidated by
his bold appearance, walked up to him ; and his lordship, struck with the
resolution he displayed, immediately surrendered himself, and gave up his
arms, but directly afterwards declared that he had killed the villain, and
o-loried in the act. He was instantly conveyed in custody to a public-
house at Ashby, kept by a man named Kinsey; and a coroner's jury
havino- brought in a verdict of wilful murder against him, he was on the
foUowino- Monday committed to the custody of the keeper of the jail at
Leicester. Being entitled, however, by his rank to be tried before his
peers, he was in about a fortnight afterwards conveyed to London, in his
landau, drawn by six horses, under a strong guard ; and being carried
before the House of Lords, he was committed to the custody of the Black
Itod, and ordered to the Tower, where he arrived at about six o'clock in
the evening of the 14th February. He is reported to have behaved,
durino- the whole journey and at his commitment, with great calmness
and propriety. He was confined in the Round Tower, near the draw ■
bridge : two wardens were constantly in tlie room with him, and one at
the door ; two sentinels were posted at the bottom of the stairs, and one
upon the drawbridge, with their bayonets fixed ; and from this time the
"otes were orderedto be shut an hour sooner than usual.
During his confinement he was moderate both in eating and drinking ;
his breakfast was a half-pint basin of tea, with a small spoonful of brandy
in it, and a mutfin ; with his dinner he generally drank a pint of wine and
a pint of water, and another pint of each with his supper. In general his
behaviour was decent and quiet, except that he would sometimes suddenly
start, tear open his waistcoat, and use other gestures, which showed that
his m.ind was disturbed.
Mrs. Clifford and the four young ladies, who had come up with hiiu
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR 185
from Leicestorsliire, took a lodging in Tower-street, and for some time a
servant was continually passing with letters between them : but after-
wards tliis correspondence was permitted only once a day.
Mrs. Clifford came three times to the Tower to see him, but was not
admitted ; but his children were suffered to be with him some time.
On the 16th of April, having been a prisoner in the Tower two months
and two days, he was brought to his trial, which continued till the 1 8th,
before the House of Lords, assembled for that purpose ; Lord Henley,
keeper of the grL'at seal, having been created lord high steward upon the
occasion.
The murder was easily proved to have been committed in the manner
we have described ; and his lordship then proceeded to enter upon his
defence.
He called several witnesses, the object of whose testimony was to show
that the earl was not of sound mind, but none of them proved such an
insanity as made him not accountable for his conduct. His lordship
managed liis defence himself, in such a manner as showed an uncommon
understanding ; he mentioned the fact of his being reduced to the necessity
of attempting to prove himself a lunatic, that he might not be deemed a
murderer, with the most delicate and affecting sensibility; and, when he
found that his plea could not avail him, he confessed that he made it only
to gratify his friends; that he was always averse to it himself; and that
it had prevented what he had proposed, and what perhaps might have
taken oft' the malignity at least of the accusation.
The peers having in the usual form delivered their verdic^ of Guilty, his
lordship received sentence to be hanged on Monday the 21st of April, and
then to be anatomized ; but, in consideration of his rank, the execution of
this sentence was respited till Monday the 5th of May.
During this interval he made a will, by which he left one thousand
three lumdred pounds to Mr. Johnson's children ; one thousand pounds to
each of his four natural daughters ; and sixty pounds a year to INIrs.
Clittbrd for her life ; but this disposition of his property being made after
his conviction, was not valid ; although it was said that the same, or nearly
the same provision was afterwards made for the parties named.
In the mean time a scaffold was erected under the sallows at Tyburn,
and part of it, about a yard square, was raised about eighteen inches above
the rest of the floor, with a contrivance to sink down upon a signal given,
in accordance with the plan now invariably adopted ; the whole being
covered with black baize.
On the morning of the 5th May, at about nine o'clock, his lordship's body
was demanded of the keeper of the Tower, by the sheriffs of London and
Middlesex, and his lordship being informed of it, sent a message to the
sheriffs requesting that he might be permitted to be conveyed to the
scaffold in his own landau, in preference to the mourning-coach which was
provided for him. This being granted, his landau, drawn by six horses,
immediately drew up, and he entered it, accompanied by Mr. Humphries,
the chaplain of the Tower, who had been admitted to him on that morn-
ing for the first time. On the carriage reaching the outer gate, the earl
was delivered up to the sheriffs, and Mr. Sheriff Vaillant entered the
vehicle with him, expressing his concern at having so melancholy a duty
to perform ; but his lordship said " he was much obliyed to him, and took
VOL. I. B B
•186 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
it kindly that he accompanied him." The earl was attired in a white snit,
richly embroidered with silver ; and when he put it on he said, " This is
the suit in which I was married, and in which I will die." The procession
being now formed, moved forward slowly, the landau being preceded bv a
v^onsiderable body of horse grenadiers, and by a carriage containing Mr.
Sheriff Errington, and his under sheriff, Mr. Jackson, and being followed
by the carriage of Mr. Sheriff' Vaillant, containing Mr. Nichols, his
under sheriff, a mourning-coach and six, containing some of his lordship's
friends, a hearse and six for the conveyance of his body to Surgeon's Hall
after execution, and another body of military. The pace at whicii they
proceeded, in consequence of the density of the mob, was so slow, that liis
lordship was two hours and three quarters in his landau, but during that
time he appeared perfectly easy antl composed, thovigh he often expressed
his anxiety to have the whole affair over, saying " that the apparatus of
death, and the passing through such crowds, were worse than death itself,"
and " that he supposed so large a mob had been collected because the
people had never seen a lord hanged before," He told the sheriff' that " he
had written to the king to beg that he mJght suffer where his ancestor,
the Earl of Essex, had been executed ; and that he was in the greater hopes
of obtaining that favour, as he had the honour of quartering part of the
''ame arms, and of being allied to his majesty; but that he had refused,
and he thought it hard that he must die at the place appointed for the
execution of common felons."
Mr. Humphries took occasion to observe, that the world would naturally
be very inquisitive concerning the religion his lordship professed, and
asked him if he chose to say anything upon that subject ; and his lordship
answered that he did not think himself accountable to the world for his
sentiments on religion ; but that he had always believed in and adored
one God, the maker of all things ; that whatever his notions were, he had
never propagated them, or endeavoured to gain any persons over to his
persuasion ; that all countries and nations had a form of religion by which
the people were governed, and that he looked upon any one who disturbed
them in it as an enemy to society. That he blamed very much my Lord
Bolingbroke for permitting his sentiments on religion to be published to
the world. That he never could believe what some sectaries teach, that
faith alone will save mankind ; so that if a man, just before he dies, should
say only "■ I believe," that alone will save him.
As to the crime for wliich he suffered, he declared " that he was under
particular circumstances — that he had met with so many crosses and
vexations, he scarce knew what he did :" and he most solemnly protested
" that he had not the least malice against Mr. Johnson."
When his lordship had got to that part of Holborn which is near Drury-
lane, he said " he was thirsty, and should be glad of a glass o' wine and
water ;" upon which the sheriffs remonstrating to him, *•' that a stop lor
that purpose would necessarily draw a greater crowd about him, which
uight possibly disturb and incommode him, yet, if his lordship still desired
it, it should be done," he most readily answered, " That's true — I say no
more — let us by no means stop."
When they approached near the place of execution, his lordship, point-
ing to Mrs. Clifford, told the sheriff " that there was a person waiting in
a coach near there, for whom he had a very sincei-e regard, and of whom
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 1G7
he should 1)0 Mad to tage his leave before he died." The sheriff answered
that " if his lordship insisted upon it, it should be so ; but that he wislicd
his lordship, for his own sake, would decline it, lest the sight of a person,
for whom he had such a regard, should unman him, and disann him of
the fortitude he possessed." His lordship, without the least hesitation,
replied, " Sir, if you think I am wrong, I submit :" and upon the sheriff
tellino- his lordship that if he had anything to deliver to the individual
referred to, or any one else, he would faithfully do it, his lordship delivered
to him a pocket-book, in which were a bank-note and a ring, and a purse with
some o-uineas, which were afterwards handed over to the unhappy woman.
The landau being now advanced to the place of execution, his lordship
alif^hted from it, and ascended the scaffold with the same composure and
fortitude of mind he had exhibited from the time he left the Tower. Soon
after he had mounted the scaffold, ]\Ir. Humphries asked his lordship if he
chose to say prayers, which he declined ; but, upon his asking him " if he
did not choose to join with him in the Lord's Prayer," he readily answered
" he would, for he always thought it a very fine prayer ;" upon which
they knelt down together upon two cushions, covered with black baize
and his lordship, with an audible voice, very devoutly repeated the Lord's
Prayer, and afterwards, with great energy, ejaculated, " O God, forgive
me all my errors — pardon all my sins !"
His lordship, then rising, took his leave of the sheriff and the chaplain ;
and, after thanking them for their many civilities, presented his watch to
Mr. Sheriff Vaillant, of which he desired his acceptance ; and requested
that his body might be buried at Breden or Stanton, in Leicestershire.
The executioner now proceeded to do his duty, to which his lordship,
with great resignation, submitted. His neckcloth being taken off, a white
cap, which he had brought in his pocket, being put ixpon his head, his
arms secured by a black sash, and the cord put round his neck, he advanced
by three steps to the elevated part of the scaffold, and, standing under the
cross-beam which went over it, which was also covered with black baize,
he asked the executioner " Am I right ?" Then the cap was drawn over
his face, and, upon a signal given by the sheriff, (for his lordship, upon
being before asked, declined to give one himself,) that part upon which ho
stood instantly sunk down from beneath his feet, and he was launched into
eternity May the 5th 1760.
From the time of his lordship's ascending upon the scaffold, until his
execution, was about eight minutes ; during which his countenance did not
change, nor his tongue falter.
The accustomed time of one hour being past, the coffin was raised up,
with the greatest decency, to receive the body ; and, being deposited in
the hearse, was conveyed by the sheriffs, with the same procession, to
Surgeons' Hall, to undergo the remainder of the sentence. A large incision
was then made from the neck to the bottom of the breast, and another
across the throat ; the lower part of the belly was laid open, and the
bowels taken away. It was afterwards publicly exposed to view in a
room up one pair of stairs at the Hall ; and on the evening of Thursday,
the 8th of May, it was delivered to his friends for interment.
The following verse is said to have been found in his apartment : —
•' In doubt Hived, in doubt I die,
Yet stand prepared the vast abyss to try,
And, undismay'd, expect eternity."
168
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
THEODORE GARDELLE.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
This delinquent was a native of Geneva ; and besides being a man of
good general education, was somewhat celebrated in his native city as a
painter on enamel. Unhappy in his domestic concerns, in the year 1760
he repaired to London, and took lodgings in the house of a Mrs. King, who
lived in Leicester-fields, and who was the unfortunate subject of his crime
The circumstances attending the murder were as follow : — On Thursday,
19th February 1761, the servant-girl got up at about seven o'clock in the
morning, and being presently called by Gardelle, who occupied an upper
apartment, was desired to go on some errands for him.
The girl took the messages, and went to her mistress, who was still in
her bedroom, which was the back parlour, telling her what Gardelle had
desired her to do ; to which her mistress replied, " Nanny, you can't go,
for there's nobody to answer at the street door." The girl being willing to
oblige Gardelle, answered " that Mr. Gardelle would come down, and sit
in the parlour until she came back ; " and she then went again to Gardelle,
who, in obedience to her wish, proceeded into the front room on tlie
ground floor.
The girl went out, taking the key of the street-door with her to let her-
self in again, Gardelle then having entered the room next to Mrs. King's
apartment.
Immediately after she was gone out, Mrs. King, hearing the tread of
somebody in the parlour, called out, " Who is there ?" and at the same time
opened her chamber door, and saw Gardelle at a table Very near the door,
who had just then taken up a book that lay upon it. He had sometime
before drawn j\Irs. King's picture, which she wanted to have made very
handsome, and had teased him so much about it, that the eftect was just
contrary ; and it happened unfortunately, that the first thing she said to
him, when she saw him walking about in the room, was something reproach-
ful about this picture. Provoked at the insult, as he spoke English very
imperfectly, for want of a better expression, he told her, with some warmth,
" that she was an impertinent woman."
The detail of the whole of the circumstances immediately attending this
part of the transaction of necessity could not fall within the knowledge or
observation of any witness, and it is therefore derived from a statement
drawn up by Gardelle while in custody ; but having stated the facts
already mentioned, he says that this insult threw I\Irs. King into a trans-
port of rage, and she gave him a blow with her fist on the breast, so violent
that he could not have thought it could have been given by a woman. As
soon as the blow was struck she drew a little back ; and at the same
instant he laid his hand on her shoulder, and pushed her from him, rather
in contempt than anger, or with a design to liurt her ; but her foot happening
to catch in tlie flour-cloth, she fell backwards, and her head came with
great force against the corner of the bedstead. The blood immediately
gushed from her moutlx, not in a continued stream, but as if by difierent
strokes of a pump, and he instantly ran to her, expressing his concern at
the accident ; but she pushed him away, and threatened, though m a feeblt
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 189
and interrupted voice, to punish him for what he had done. lie was terri-
fied at tlie tiiought of being condemned for a criminal act upon her accusa-
tion, and again attempted to assist her by raising her up, as the blood
still flowed from her mouth in great quantities ; but she exerted all her
strenffth to keep him off, and still cried out, mixing threats with her
screams. He then seized an ivory comb, with a sharp taper point continued
from the back for adjusting the curls of her hair, which lay upon her toilet,
and threatened her in his turn to prevent her crying out ; but she still
continuing to scream, though with a voice still fainter and fiiinter, he
struck her with this instrument, probably in the throat, upon which the
blood poured from her mouth in yet greater quantities, and her voice was
quite stopped. He then di'ew the bed-clothes over her to prevent her
blood from spreading on the floor, and to hide her from his sight ; and he
stood some time motionless by her, and then fell down by her side in a
swoon. When he came to himself he perceived the maid was come in,
and he therefore went out of the room without examining the body to see
if the unhappy woman was quite dead ; and his confusion was then so
great that he staggered against the wainscot, and hit his head so as to
ra'se a bump over his eye.
It appears that he subsequently sent the girl away, informing her that
he had her mistress's orders to dismiss her, and paid ten shillings for her
wages ; and the latter having been unable to find either her mistress or
Gardelie on her first returning to the house, and knowing the former to be
a woman of light character, concluded that they must have been in bed
together, and that her mistress being ashamed to meet her, determined to
get rid of her. Her suspicions were not at all raised therefore, and she
went away, informing Gardelie that ^Ir. Wright, who lodged in the house,
but had been out of town, would return that evening with his servant. On
her departure, the first thing that Gardelie did was to go into the cliamber
to Mrs. King, whom, upon examination, he found quite dead. He there-
fore took off the blankets and sheets with which he had covered her, stripped
off the shift, and laid the body quite naked upon the bed. Before this, he
said, his linen was not stained ; but it was much discoloured by his
removing the body. He then took the two blankets, the sheets, the
coverlet, and one of the curtains, and jiut them into the water-tub in the
back wash-house to soak, they being all much stained with blood. Her
shift he carried up stairs, and putting it into a bag, concealed it under his
bed. His own shirt, now bloody, he pulled off', and locked it up in a
drawer of his bureau.
When all this was done, he went and sat down in the parlour, and soon
after, it being about nine o'clock, Mr. Wright's servant, whose name was
Pelsey, came in without his master, who had changed his mind, and was
gone to a gentleman's house in Castle-street. He went up into his room,
the garret, and sat there till about eleven o'clock, when he came down, and
finding Gardelie still in the parlour, he asked if Mrs. King was come home,
and who must sit up for her ? Gardelie said she was not come home, but
that he would sit up for her. In the morning, Friday, when Pelsey came
down stairs, he again asked if Mrs. King was come home, and Gardelie
told him that she had been at home, but was gone again ; and he subse-
quently said that she was gone to Bath or Bristol. The demeanour of
(iardelle was soon observed by Pelsey to be much changed, and fancying;
190 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
that it was in consequence of tlie absence of Mrs. King, he went into tlic
Haymarket, and procured a girl of unfortunate character named Walker
to go and stay in the house with him. A iirs- Pritchard was also engaged
as charwoman, and still, no suspicions being entertained, all the parties
continued to live in the house. On the Saturday morning, Gardelle first
took steps to dispose of the body of the deceased woman, and no plan struck
him as being so readily to be carried out as that of a gradual destruction
of its members by Sre. He accordingly proceeded to light a fire in the
garret, whither he carried the bones, from which he had previously scraped
the flesh, and burned them. All went on well until the Tuesday morning,
■when Pelsey, who was going up to his master's room, smelt something
ofi"ensive, and asked Gardelle, who was pushing up the sash of the window
on the staircase, what it was ? Gardelle replied, somebody had put a bone
in the fire. At night Pelsey renewed his inquiries after Mrs. King, and
Gardelle answered, with a seeming impatience, " Me know not of Mrs.
King ; she give me a great deal of trouble, but me shall hear of her on
Wednesday or Thursday."
On Tuesday night he told Walker he would sit up till Mrs. King came
home, though he had before told her she was out of town, and desired her
to go to bed ; and as soon as she was gone, he renewed his horrid employ-
ment of cutting the body to pieces, and disposing of it in different places.
The bowels he threw down the necessary ; and the flesh of the body and
limbs, cut to pieces, he scattered about in the cock-loft, where he supposed
they would dry and perish without putrefaction.
Wednesday passed like the preceding days ; and on Thursday he told his
female companion that he expected Mrs. King home in the evening, and
therefore desired that she would provide herself a lodging, giving her at
the same time two of Mrs. King's shifts; and being thus dismissed, she
went away.
Pritchard, the charwoman, still continued in her office, and through her
means the murder was discovered. The water having failed in the cistern
on the Tuesday, she had recourse to that in the water-tub in the back
kitchen. Upon pulling out the spigot a little water ran out ; but, as there
appeared to be more in, she got upon a ledge, and putting her hand in, she
felt sometiiing soft. She then fetched a poker, and pressing down the
contents of the tub, she got water in a pail. She informed Pelsey of the
circumstance, and they agreed the first opportunity to see what the things
in the water-tub were ; yet so languid was their curiosity, and so careless
were they of the event, that it was Thursday before the tub was examined.
They found in it the blankets, sheets, and coverlet, tliat Gardelle had put
in to soak ; and after spreading, shaking, and looking at them, they put
them again into the tub ; and the next morning, when Pelsey came down,
he saw the curtain hanging on the banisters of the kitchen stairs. Upon
looking down, he saw Gardelle just come out at the wash-house door,
where the tub stood. When Pritchard the charwoman came, he asked
her if she had been taking the curtain out of the tub, and she said " No."
She then went and looked in the tub, and found the sheets had been wrung
out. Upon this the first step was taken towards inquiring after the
unhappy woman, who had now lain dead more than a week in the house.
Pelsey found out the maid whom Gardelle had disniissod, and suspiciona
being excited that Mrs. King had been unfairly dealt with, the aid of the
rUE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 19 i
police was obtained. Gardelle was then apprehended, and his answers to
the questions put to him being of a very equivocal nature, a search was
made in the house, and the remains of the body being discovered, disposed
of as we have already mentioned, as well as the linen of the deceased, and
of the prisoner, stained with blood, his guilt was considered to be fully esta-
blished, and he was committed to Newgate for trial. While in that prison
he made two attempts to destroy himself by taking laudanum, and by
swjiUowing halfpence to the number of twelve ; but although he was con-
siderably injured by the latter attempt, he failed in securing his object.
He afterwards showed strong marks of penitence and contrition, and
behaved with great humility, openness, and courtesy, to those who
visited him.
On Thursday, the 2d of April, he was tried at the Old Bailey ; and, in
his defence, he insisted only that he had no malice to the deceased, and that
her death was the consequence of the fall. He was convicted, and sentenced
to be executed on Saturday, the 4th of the same month. The account
which he wrote in prison, and which is mentioned in this narrative, is
dated the 28th of March, though he did not communicate it till after his
trial. The night after his condemnation, his behaviour was extravagant
and outrageous ; but the next morning he was composed and quiet, and
said he had slept three or four hours in the night. When he was asked
why he did not make his escape, he answered that he feared some innocent
person might then suffer in his stead.
He was executed April the 4th 1761, amidst the shouts and hisses of an
indignant populace, in the Haymarket, near Panton-street, to which he
was led by Mrs. King's house, where the cart made a stop. His body was
hung in chains upon Hounslow Heath.
JOHN M'NAUGHTON, ESQ.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
John M'Naughton, Esq. was the son of a merchant at Derry, whose
father had been an alderman of Dublin. He was educated at Trinity
College, Dublin ; and on his coming of age he entered into a landed estate
of six hundred pounds a year, in the county of Tyrone, which was left
him by Dr. M'Naughton, his uncle. The first vice he fell into was that
of gaming, by which he very soon did great injury to his fortune ; and
though he continued (as most novices do who play with sharpers) in a
constant run of ill luck, and was soon obliged to mortgage bis property, yet
his losses made no visible alteration in his temper. Although he was of a
most passionate disposition, his pride kept him within due bounds there. All
was placid with the polite M'Naughton ; and he lost his money to the very
last with that graceful composure that became the man who had a plentiful
fortune to support it. But strong as his passion this way might be, it was
not powerful enough to secure him against the attacks of love , and becoming
attached to a young lady he very speedily married her. The reader may
well suppose that the expenses of a wife and family in Dublin must soon
increase his difficulties, and introduce a new scene of troubles ; and it did
so in a m&nner and with an effect which was most unhappy for Mr.
192 THE XEV\' NEWGATE CALENDAR.
M'Naughton. It appears that a writ having been issued against him ut
the suit of one of his creditors, the sherift"s officer obtained access to his
house by a stratagem, on which he flew into a rage, and calling out for
pistols, he frighted his poor listening wife to sucli a degree that premature
labour followed, and she died in childbed.
The feelings of the unfortunate husband upon the occurrence of this
melancholy event were most distressing, and he made repeated attempts
upon his life ; but a change of scene being recommended, he was conveyed
to the country, where every attention was paid to his health, while his
fortune also was nursed with equal care. On his return to the gaiety of
tlip Irish metropolis, he soon resumed that worst of passions — gaming,
and again became the dupe of others, while his property was once more
seriously diminished. At this time he made secret advances to Miss
Knox, the beautiful and accomplished daughter of Richard Knox, Esq. of
Prohen in the county of DeiTy, who was possessed of a handsome fortune,
and whose promise of marriage he obtained, in the event of her father's
consent being given. On that consent being requested, however, it was at
once refused, on account of the youth of the young lady, whose age did not
exceed sixteen years ; and ]Mr. Knox was so resolute in liis refusal, that he
forbade the suitor for his daughter's hand ever to enter the house again.
Mr. ^I'Xaughton begged that this latter injunction might be withdrawn,
urging that .it would appear strange to the world that his friendship with
i family, with which he had been so intimate, should be so suddenly
broken oft'; and upon his promising upon his honour, that the subject of the
marriao-e should not be aoain mentioned, and declaring; that he had not
previously spoken of it to the young lady herself, his visits were allowed
to be repeated. In the mean time he continued his addresses to the young
lady, and informed her that he had obtained the consent of her father, but
ihat the marriage must be postponed for a year or two, when some material
business would be settled, which was required to be decided first ; and
under this assurance she no longer withheld the confession that the passion
of her admirer was returned, and appeared to delight most in the com-
pany of the man whom she looked upon as her future husband.
All her hopes were, however, soon doomed to be blasted. One day being
in company with M'Xaughton and a little boy in a retired room in the
house, he pressed her to marry him, protesting he never could be happy till
he was sure of her ; and with an air of sprightly raillery, pulling out a
prayer-book, he began to read the marriage service, and insisted on the
young lady making the responses, which she did ; but to everj' one she
always added, " provided her father consented."
Some short time after this, Miss Knox going to a friend's house on a
week's visit, ]Mr. M'Xaughton, being also an intimate there, soon followed
her ; and here he fixed his scene for action. After a day or two he claimed
her, and, calling her his wife, insisted on consummation ; but the young
lady absolutely refused to comply, and leaving the house, went directly am!
informed her uncle of the whole aftair. On tliis ]\Ir. Knox wTote a letter
to M'Xaughton, telling him what a base dishonourable villain he was, and
bade him avoid his sight for ever ; but upon the receipt of this letter
M'Xaughton advertised his marriage in tlie public newsjiapers, cautioning
every other man not to marry his lawful wife. This vile attack was
answered by a very spirited and proper advertisement from the father, with
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 193
Hn affidavit of the whole affair from the daughter annexed ; and Mr. Knox
having commenced a suit in the Prerogative Court, the marriage was
dochired invalid. Mr. M'Naughton liaving absconded to avoid his debts,
could not now appeal to the Court of Delegates, and the original decree
was confirmed. Judge Scott in consequence issued his warrant for the appre-
hension of the defendant, who was liable to pay costs ; and IM'Naughton,
hearing of this, vsrote a most impudent threatening letter to the judge,
and, it is said, lay in wait to have him murdered, but missed him by the
judge's taking another road. Upon this the judge applied to the lord chief
justice, who issued another writ against him, which drove him to England.
In the summer of 1761, Mr. M'Naughton returned to Ireland, and by
constantly hovering round jNIr. Knox's house, obliged the family to be upon
their guard, and the young lady to live like a recluse.
About the middle of the summer, however, she ventured to a place called
Swaddling Bar to drink the mineral waters there for her health ; but even
thither this unhappy man followed her, and he was seen in a beggar's habit
dogging her footsteps. Thus disguised he was detected ; and when warned
never to appear there again, he swore, in the presence of several, that he
would murder the wlioTe family if he did not get possession of his wife — a
threat which he subsequently attempted to cany out. Notwithstanding
his violence, it appears that he was permitted again to escape to London ;
and he remained there until the month of October in the same year. At
the beginning of November he was again seen in Ireland ; and having
approached the residence of the Knoxes, he was known to sleep with three
of liis accomplices, at the house of a hearth- money collector, very nearly
adjoining the abode of his intended victim. The 10th was the day fixed
upon by him for the attack ; and on that morning M'Naughton, with his
companions, went to a cabin on the road-side with a sack full of fire-
arms, in order to await the passing of 'Mr. Knox's coach, in which it was
known the family were about to proceed to Dublin. One of the men was
despatched to ascertain the moment of the coming of the vehicle ; and when
it appeared in sight, having obtained the information requisite for its
identification, he hurried back to desire the projector of the scheme to
prepare. It appears that the only persons in the carriage were Mr. Knox
and his wife, their daughter and a maid-servant ; and they were attended
only by one livery-servant, and a faithful fellow, a smith, who was foster-
father to Miss Knox, and whom no bribe could ever purchase, although
most of the other servants had been tampered with. As soon as the coach
came near the cabin, two of the villains, armed with gims, presented them-
selves to the postilion and coachman, and stopped the horses, while
M'Naughton fired at the smith with a blunderbuss. The latter escaped
being wounded, and presented his piece in return, but it unfortunately
missed fire, and M'Naughton and one of his companions seizing the oppor-
tunity, again fired, and both of them wounded him. Mr. Knox at this
time drew up the blinds of the carriage, and M'Naughton observing this,
ran round to the other side, and firing in at the window obliquely, with a
gun loaded with five balls, shot Miss Knox, all the balls taking effect in
her body. The maid -servant now let down the window, screaming that
her mistress was murdered ; and the livery-servant on hearing this came
from behind a peat-stack, where he had concealed himself for safety, and
firing at M'Naughton, wounded him in the back ; and about the same
VOL. I. C C
194 THE NEW NEAVGATE CALENDAR.
time ]Mr. Knox from the coach discharged a pistol, which was the last of
eight shots fired on this strange and dreadful occasion.
The murderer and his accomplices now immediately fled ; and jNIiss Knox
being carried into the cabin, died in about three hours. An attack so bold and
so diabolical in its nature excited the greatest degree of interest ; and large
rewards were instantly offered for the apprehension of the perpetrator of
the murder. For a considerable time all search proved fruitless ; but at
length a corporal of Sir James Caldwell's company of Light Horse secured
him under the following circumstances : — It appears that the corporal had
received instructions to search the house and offices of one Wenslow, a
farmer, and had examined every place without success, when he bethought
himself of a stratagem, by which to obtain the requisite information of the
murderer's hiding-place. Observing a fellow digging potatoes in a piece of
ground behind the stables, he remarked in his hearing that it was a great
pity that M'Naughion could not be found, for that the person who disco-
vered his retreat would be sure of a reward of 300/. The bait took, and
the peasant pointed to a barn, and thither the corporal and his assistants
immediately proceeded. The door was fast, but they at length forced it
open, and then they foimd the object of their search standing with a gun
at his shoulder, apparently determined to resist all efforts made to secure
him. On the appearance of the corporal he fired at him, but without
wounding him ; and a shot from the corporal's gun striking him on the
vsrist, he was compelled to surrender.
He was immediately secured and carried to Lifibrd jail, where he
remained in the closest confinement until the 8th December, 1761, when
he was put upon his trial, with an accomplice named Dunlap before Mr.
Baron IMountney and Mr. Justice Scott, on a special commission.
M'Xaughton, still suffering from the effects of the wounds which he had
received, was brought into court on a bier, rolled in a blanket, and wearing
the shirt in which he was taken, still smeared with blood. His beard had
gro\vTi to an enormous length, and his head was wrapped in a greasy
woollen night-cap. In that condition he made a long speech, pointedly
and sensibly ; and complained in the most pathetic manner of the hard
usage he had met with since his confinement. He said " they had treated
him like a man under sentence, and not like a man that was to be tried."
He declared, with tears in his eyes, that he never intended to kill his dear
wife, but that he only designed to take her away.
The case lasted five days, a considerable portion of the first day being
occupied in pleadings to postpone the trial, and the reply of the counsel
for the crown. During these debates M'Xaughton often spoke with most
amazing spirit and judgment ; but the result was, that he was ordered to
prepare his affidavit, which the Court would take into consideration.
Accordingly, on the 9th, he was brought into Court again, and his affidavit
read, in which he swore that some material witnesses for him were not to
be had, particulai-ly one Owens, who, he said, was present all the time ;
but the Court were of opinion that no sufficient reason for the application
was shown, and the trial in consequence proceeded. During the whole
proceedings M'Xaughton took his notes as regularly as any of the lawyers,
and cross-examined all the witnesses with the greatest accuracy, and he
was observed to behave with uncommon resolution.
His chief defence was founded on a letter he produced, as written to hin\
by Miss Knox, in which she desired him to intercept her on the road to
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 195
Dublin, and take her away ; but this letter was proved a forgery of his
own, which after condemnation he confessed. He took great pains to
exculpate himself from the least design to murder any one, much less his
dear wife (as he always called her) ; he declared solemnly that his intent
was only to take her out of the coach, and carry her off ; but as he I'eceived
the first wound, from the first shot that was fired, the anguish of that
wound, and the prospect of his ill success in his design, so distracted him
that, being wholly involved in confusion and despair, he fired he knew not
at what or whom, and had the misfortune to kill the only person in the
world that was dear to him ; that he gave the Court tliat trouble, and
laboured thus, not to save his life, — for death was now his choice, — but to
clear his character from such horrid guilt as that which was ascribed to
liim. The jury, however, found both prisoners guilty ; and M'Naughton
received tlie intimation without any concern, declaring that " they had
acquitted themselves with justice to the country." Mr. Baron Mountney
then pronounced upon both prisoners the awful sentence which the law
directed ; and although the Court were visibly affected by the manner in
which this painful duty was performed, M'Naughton remained unconcerned.
He prayed the Court to have mercy upon Dunlap, alleging that he was
his tenant, and had been compelled by him to participate with him in the
transaction, under pain of losing a lease, which he hoped to be renewed ;
but he declared that life was not worth asking for himself, for that his
wife being dead, the better half of himself was gone, and he had nothing to
remain for in this world.
Tuesday the 15th December, 1761, was fixed upon for the execution of
these criminals ; but it appears that some difficulty was experienced in
carrying tlie sentence into effect. For a long time no carpenter could be
found to make tlie gallows, and the sheriff looked out for a tree proper for
the purpose, and the execution must have been performed on it, had not
the uncle of the young lady, and some other gentlemen, made the gallows,
and put it up. The sheriff was afterwards obliged to take a party of
soldiers, and force a smith to take off the prisoners' bolts, otherwise be
must have been obliged, contrary to law, to execute them with their bolts
on. The time for the execution having arrived, M'Naughton, attended by
his fellow prisoner, walked to the place of execution, but, being weak of
his wounds, was supported between two men. The former was dressed in
a white flannel waistcoat trimmed with black buttons and holes, a diaper
night-cap tied with a black riband, white stockings, mourning-buckles,
and a crape tied on his arm. He desired the executioner to be speedy ;
and the fellow pointing to the ladder, he mounted with great spirit. The
moment he was tied up he jumped from it with such vehemence as snapped
the rope, and he fell to the ground, but without dislocating his neck, or
doing himself much injury. When they had raised him on his legs again,
he soon recovered his senses ; and the executioner borrowing the rope from
Dunlap, and fixing it round M'Naughton's neck, be went up the ladder a
second time, and tying the rope himself to the gallows, he jumped from it
again with the same force, and appeared dead in a minute.
The spectators, who saw him drop when the rope broke, looked upon it
.IS some contrivance for his escape, which they favoured all they could by
running away from tlie place, and leaving it open.
Dunlap was afterwards turned off' in the usual manner, in sight of the
dangling body of his accomplice and master.
196 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
JOHN SMITH AND ROBERT MAYNE.
EXECUTED FOR A MUTINY OK BOARD THE KING GEORGE.
On the trial of these men, with five more of the crew, it appeared that
disputes arose on board the King George, a fine privateer, of thirty-two
guns and two hundred men, commanded by Captain Reed, and cruising
against the enemies of the country, concerning some prize wine, which was
stowed in the hold, some of the crew insisting on its being hoisted up to
be used for the whole ship's company. This would have been attended, in
their situation, with both difficulty and danger, and was consequently
opposed by Captain Reed and his officers ; and being disappointed, a
factious discontented set endeavoured to corrupt the remainder, and soon
o-ained over so formidable a party, that they determined to seize the ship,
and turn pirates in the Indian seas. In order to effect this, oft' Cape
Ortucral, the mutineers demanded the keys of the arm-chests, and on the
refusal of their request, they drove the captain and officers into the cabin.
They then placed a guard at the door, and brought a nine- pounder
carriacre-ffun, loaded with round and grape shot, to fire among the officers ;
but were prevailed upon to desist by the entreaties of Mr. Gardener, the
sailing master.
They then offered the latter the command of the ship, acquainting him
with their intention of steering for the East Indies ; but on his refusal
they put him under a guard, and took the ship into their own care, until
they had, for want of skill, nearly lost her. They then released Mr.
Gardener, and gave him the helm ; when he steered into Camarinas, in
Spain, where most of the mutineers took to the boats, and made their
escape.
Such as were apprehended were brought to trial ; and though two
more, viz. Thomas Baldwin and Laurence Tierman, were found guilty,
vet Smith and JMayne, who were the ringleaders of the mutiny, only were
hanged. They suffered at Execution Dock, May the 10th, 1762.
They were both Irishmen, and Roman Catholics, and were attended by
a priest of that religion.
A few years after this affair a mutiny broke out among the crew of the
Namur, of ninety guns. Fifteen were tried, found guilty, and ordered to
be hanged ; and they were taken for execution on board the Royal Ann,
with halters round their necks. While waiting for the fatal gun being
fired, however, they were told that his majesty had pardoned fourteen of
them, but one of them must die ; and they were ordered to cast lots.
How exquisite must have been the feelings of these miserable men at
the awful moment of deciding on the fate of one ! The fatal lot fell upon
the second man that drew, Matthew M'Can, who was soon run up to the
yard-arm, where the body hung nearly an hour.
The pardoned seamen were turned over to the Grafton and the Sunder
land, under sailing orders for the East Indies.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 197
HANNAH DAGOE.
EXECUTED FOR ROBBERY.
TnERE is so much eccentricity in the mode in wliich this unhappy
wretch terminated lier existence, that, although the circumstances of the
robbery for which she was convicted are not of an interesting nature, we
cannot forbear mentioning her case.
We have adduced many instances of hardness of heart, and contempt
of the commandments of God, in men who have undergone the last sentence
of the law ; but we are of opinion that in this woman will be found a
more relentless heart, in her last moments, than any criminal whom v>'e
have yet recorded.
Hannah Dagoe was born in Ireland, and was one of that numerous cl£^ss
of women who ply at Covent Garden market as basket- women. In the
pursuit of her vocation, she became acquainted with a poor and industrious
woman of the name of Eleanor Hussey, who lived by herself in a small
apartment, in which was some creditable household furniture, the remains
of the worldly goods of her deceased husband. Seizing an opportunity,
when the owner was from home, this daring woman broke into Hussey's
room, and stripped it of every article which it contained.
For this burglary and robbery she was brought to trial at the Old
Bailey, found guilty, and sentenced to death.
She was a strong masculine woman, the terror of her fellow prisoners,
and actually stabbed one of the men who had given evidence against her ;
but the wound happened not to prove dangerous.
On the road to Tyburn she showed little concern at her miserable state,
and paid no attention to the exhortations of the Romish priest who attended
her. When the cart, in which she was bound, was drawn under the
gallow^s, she got her hands and arms loose, seized the executioner, struggled
with him, and gave him so violent a blow on the breast as nearly knocked
him down. She dared him to hang her ; and in order to revenge herself
upon him, and cheat him of his dues, she took off her hat, cloak, and other
parts of her dress, and disposed of them among the crowd. After much
resistance he got the rope about her neck, which she had no sooner found
accomplished, than, pulling out a handkerchief, she bound it round her
head, over her face, and threw herself out of the cart, before the signal
given, with such violence, that she broke her neck and died instantly.
This extraordinary and unprecedented scene occurred on the 4th
May, 1763.
BARNEY CARROL AND WILLIAM KING.
EXECUTED FOR CUTTING AND MAIMING.
These men had served their country as soldiers, and it is remarkable
that having in that capacity conducted themselves with great bravery, and
earned for themselves well-merited rewards, they should afterwards have
resorted to such atrocious means of procuring a livelihood, as from this
case it will appear they adopted. Having returned to England from the
Havacnah, where their regiment had been stationed, they obtained their
198 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
discharge, and dotcrmincd to commence robbers on a plan of the most infa-
mous cruelty. This consisted in their procuring two young thieves, named
By field and Mathews, to go before them and to pick pockets ; and in case
of their being detected and seized, their villanous employers would run
up, and by maiming the person holding tlie boys, generally by cutting him
across the eyes, would procure their release. The oft'ence for which they
were executed, was committed on the 17th June, 1763 ; and it appears
that a gentleman named Kirby was selected by the gang as a fit object
for attack. " 31r. Kirl)y, however, detected Byfield in picking his pocket,
and before he could withdraw his hand, he seized him and threatened to
carry him before the magistrates. His intention was not to pursue
this threat, but in order to terrify the boy, he dragged him a consi-
derable distance through the Strand, where the circumstance had occurred.
Carrol soon came up to him, and demanded the boy's release ; but Byfield
guessing that he would be permitted to escape, told him to keep off, for
that the gentleman would let him go. The answer given by tlie ruffian
was " Damn him, but I will cut him," and instantly drawing liis knife, he
gave Mr. Kii'by a severe cut over the face. A Mr. Carr at the moment
came up to the assistance of Mr. Kirby, and seized Carrol's arm, and at
this instant Kirby, letting go the boy, struck at Carrol ; but the blow
happening to fall on Mr. Carr's hand, the villain made his escape. The
rocrues then ran off towards St. Clement's church, and escaped through an
alley into Wych Street, though closely pursued by the gentleman.
Mr. Kirby now felt great pain, but had no idea that he had been wounded
by any sharp instrument ; but, putting his hand to his face, he found that
it streamed with blood. Going to the Crown and Anchor Tavern in the
Strand, JNIr. Inc^ram, a surgeon of eminence, almost immediately attended
him ; and although the utmost expedition was used in calling in the
assistance of that gentleman, Mr. Kirby had lost near two quarts of blood
in the short interval.
On examination, it appeared that the wound was given in a transverse
direction, from the right eye to the left temple ; that two large vessels
were divided by it ; that there was a cut across the nose, which left the
bone visible ; and that the eye-balls must have been divided by the slightest
deviation from the stroke.
The abominable assassins were very soon apprehended, and found guilty
under the Coventry Act, and hanged at Tyburn, July 31, 1765, amid the
execrations of an enraged multitude.
The " Coventry Act" is a statute of the 22d and 23d Charles TI. ; its
provision in respect of this crime is to the following effect : — " If any
person, on purpose, and by mahce aforethought, and by laying in wait,
shall unlawfully cut or disable the tongue, put out an eye, slit the nose,
cut oft' a nose or lip, or cut off or disable any limb or member of any
subject, with intention, in so doing, to maim or disfigure him, the person
so offending, his counsellors, aiders, abettors (knowing of, and privy to,
the offence), shall be guilty of felony, without benefit of clergy." It is
called the Coventry Act because it was passed on Sir John Coventry being
assaulted, and having his nose slit in the street ; and the following anecdote
is related of the circumstances under which this outrage was committed.
In the committee of ways and means, in the House of Commons, it had
been resolved that, towards the supply, every one that resorts to any of
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 199
the playhouses, who sits in the boxes, shall pay one shilling ; every one
who sits in the pit shall pay sixpence ; and every other person threepence.
This resolution (to which the House disagreed upon the report) was
opposed in tlie committee by the courtiers, who gave for a reason " That
the players were the king's servants, and a part of his pleasure." To this
Sir John Coventry, one of the members, by way of reply, asked " "Whether
the king's pleasure lay among the men or among the women players ? "
This being reported at court, it was highly resented ; and a resolution was
privately taken to set a mark on Sir John, to prevent others from taking
the like liberties.
December the 20th was the night that the House of Commons adjourned
for the Cliristmas holidays. On the 25th, one of the Duke of Monmouth's
troop of life-guards and some few foot, lay in wait from ten at night till
two in the morning, by Suffolk Street ; and as Sir John returned from the
tavern, where he supped, to his own house, they threw him down, and, with
a knife, cut the end of his nose almost off; but company coming made them
fearful to finish it.
The debates which this affair occasioned in the House of Commons ran
very high, and one of the members emphatically called the attack on
Coventry " A horrid un-English act."
The result was that the statute in question was passed.
PETER M'KINLIE, GEORGE GIDLEY, ANDREW ZEKER-
MAN, AND RICHARD ST. QUINTIN.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
This case exhibits a remarkable series of adventures which occurred to
the unfortunate man, who, after having survived many engagements and
imprisonments, was doomed to become one of the victims of a horrid and
piratical scheme.
The unfortunate Captain Glass was the son of a minister of the Church
of Scotland, who obtained some notice from his writings, in which he
opposed the practice of religion according to particular forms, and was
founder of a sect called Glassites. At an early period of his life, young
Glass exhibited talents of no ordinary character; and having taken a
degree of Master of Arts at one of the Scotch universities, he applied him-
self to the study of medicine. He made rapid progress in this new line of
learning ; and after he had taken the necessary degrees, was employed as
a surgeon on board a trading vessel bound for the coast of Guinea, and in
that capacity he afterwards made several voyages to America. His supe-
rior qualifications gained him a distinguished place in the esteem of several
merchants, who entrusted to him the command of a vessel in the Guinea
trade ; and his conduct proved highly to the advantage of his owners, and
equally honourable to himself.
When the war against France was declared. Captain Glass found him-
self in possession of a very considerable sum, a great part of which he
determined to venture on board a privateer ; and he, in consequence, caused
a vessel to be fitted out with all possible expedition, and took the command
on himself.
200 THE NEW NEWr.ATE CALENDAR.
In about ten days after they had commenced this voyage, they made
prize of a ship, richly Liden, belonging to France, which they carried into
a port in the West Indies ; but soon afterwards, being obliged to engage
two vessels of war, after an obstinate contest they were compelled to
submit to the superior power of the enemy and strike, but not until
Captain Glass had been severely wounded and most of his men slain. The
captain being conveyed to France, was there consigned to a prison ; but an
interchange of prisoners taking place, he once more trod on British ground.
Nothing daunted by the unsuccessful termination of his first venture, he
tried a second expedition of a similar character, in which he was equally
unfortunate, and was once again consigned to the keeping of a French
jailor, in whose custody he remained until the termination of the war. He
next conceived a design of sailing in search of discoveries ; and in pursuance
of this plan he purchased a vessel adapted to his purpose ; and having
carefully made every necessary preparation for the prosecution of his object,
he directed his course towards the coast of Africa. Between the river
Seneo-al and Cape de Verd he discovered a commodious harbour, from
which he entertained the reasonable expectation that very great commercial
advantages might be derived ; and he returned to England, and communi-
cated his discovery to government, who granted him an exclusive trade to
the harbour for the space of twenty years.
That he might be able to pursue his project with the greater advan-
tage, he now engaged in partnership with two or three gentlemen of
fortune ; and a vessel furnished with all necessary articles being again pre-
pared, he sailed for the newly discovered harbour, and arrived at it in
safety. He soon found, however, that the habits of the natives would not
permit any friendly intercourse to be maintained between them ; and being
in great distress for provisions, the captain and three men proceeded in an
open boat to the Canary Isles. During their absence the natives made an
attack upon the vessel, but were repulsed ; and the first mate, who had
been left in command of her, thought fit to sheer ofi", and having in vain sought
his captain, at length returned to England. Glass and his companions mean-
while had arrived at one of the Canary islands, and having landed, with a
view of petitionino- to be allo^'^'ed to purchase provisions, was instantly
seized by order of the governor, and conveyed to a dungeon as a spy. In
this situation he remained for six months ; but at length he made one of
his countrymen, a sailor, acquainted with his condition by WTiting his name
and the nature of his miseries on a biscuit with a piece of charcoal, and
throwincT it to him through his prison window when he was passing
beneath. The sailor immediately conveyed it to his commander ; but the
latter on making application for his release was himself seized and subjected
to treatment of similar severity. The news of this circumstance was,
however, directly carried to England by a vessel, which was on the
point of sailing ; and speedy complaint being made to the Spanish govern-
ment, the liberty of the two captains was soon obtained. At about this
time the wife and daughter of Captain Glass had arrived at the Canaries,
in consequence of the reports which had reached them of his captivity, and
the first joy of again meeting being passed, they all embarked on board a
ship bound for London, commanded by a Captain Cockeran. ]\Iiss Glass
at this time was a young lady about twelve years of age, and ill deserving
the fate which awaited her, as well as her parents. It appears that while the
THE NEW NEAVGATE CALENDAR. 201
ship lay at the Canaries, a plot was concerted between Peter M'Kinlie, the
boatswain, a native of Ireland ; George Gidley the cook, born in the west of
Yorkshire ; Richard St. Quintin, a native of the same county ; and Andrew
Zekerman a Dutchman — for murdering all the other persons on board, and
seizino- the treasure, which, including what Captain Glass had shipped in
behalf of himself and his partners, amounted to a hundred thousand pounds
in dollars. The villains made three attempts on different nights to carry
their horrid plan into execution, but were prevented through the circum-
spection of tlieir commander.
At length, however, the conspirators were appointed to the night-watcli
on the 1 3th of November, when the ship had reached the British Channel ;
and about midniglit the captain going upon the quarter-deck to see that all
things were disposed in proper order, upon his return he was seized by the
boatswain, who held him while Gidley struck him with an iron bar, and
fractured his skull. Two of the seamen who Avere not concerned in the
conspiracy, hearing the captain's groans, came upon deck, and were imme-
diately murdered, and, with their captain, were thrown overboard.
Captain Glass, being alarmed, went up the gangway, and judging that a
mutiny had arisen, returned to fetch his sword. M'Kinlie, guessing his
design, followed him down the steps leading to the cabin, and waited in the
dark till he returned with a drawn sword in his hand, when getting unper-
ceived behind him, he seized both his arms, and then called to his accom-
plices to murder him. Captain Glass, being a very powerful man, had
nearly disengaged himself from the ruffian, wlien Zekerman came up and
attacked him. The captain wounded him in the arm ; but before he could
recover his sword he was overpowered, and the other villains soon joined
their associates. The unhappy man was no sooner disarmed than he was
many times run through the body, and he was then immediately thrown
overboard. Mrs. Glass and her daughter, terrified by tlie outcry, now
came on deck, and falling on their knees, supplicated for mercy ; but
they found the villains utterly destitute of the tender feelings of humanity ;
and Zekerman telling them to prepare for death, they embraced each other
in a most affectionate manner, and were then forced from each other's arms,
and thrown into the sea.
Having now put all the crew to death, excepting a boy who attended
Captain Glass, and another boy who was an ap2>rentice on board the ship,
the murderers steei-ed towards the Irish coast, and on the 3rd of December
found themselves within ten leagues of the harbour of Ross. They then
hoisted out the long-boat, and put into it dollars to the amount of two tons;
and after knocking out the windows of the ballast ports, rowed towards
shore, leaving the two boys to sink with the vessel. Captain Glass's boy
could not swim, and he was therefore soon drowned ; but the other lad
swam to the boat, when Zekerman struck him a violent blow on the breast,
which caused him immediately to sink.
Having thus massacred eight innocent persons, the villains proceeded to the
mouth of the river Ross ; but thinking it would be dangerous to go up tlie
river with so much riches, they buried two hundred and fifty bags of dollars
in the sand, and conveyed as much treasure as they could possibly bear about
their persons to a village called Fishertown, where they stopped for refresn-
ment. On the following day they went to Ross, and there sold twelve hundred
dollars ; and, having purchased each a pair of pistols, and hired horses foi
VOL. I. D D
202 THE NEAV NEWGATE CALENDAR.
themselves and two guides, they rode to Dublin, and took up their residence
at the Black Bull in Thomas-street.
The wreck of the ship was driven on shore on the day of their leaving
Ross ; and the manner in which the villains had lived at Fishertown and
Koss, their general behaviour, and other circumstances, being understood
as grounds for suspicion of their being pirates, an express was despatched
by two gentlemen to the lords of the regency at Dublin, exhibiting the
several causes of suspicion, and giving a particular description of the
supposed delinquents.
On examining the wreck a sampler worked by Miss Glass was found, from
which it appeared that a part of the work was done on her birthday, which
afterwards turned out to be the day preceding that on which the murders
were perpetrated ; and the sampler proved a principal means of leading
to a discovery of the guilt of these abominable villains.
The gentlemen who were commissioned to attend the lords of the regency
had no sooner communicated their business tlian the lord mayor and
sheriffs were sent for ; and proper instructions being given them, they on
the same night caused M'Kinlie and Zekerman to be taken into custody.
The prisoners were separately examined ; an 1 they both confessed the parti-
culars of their guilt, and that their accomplices had that morning hired a
post-chaise for Cork, where they meant to embark on board a vessel
bound for England. Gidley and St. Quintin were then on the next day
secured at an inn on the road to Cork ; and they followed the example of
the other prisoners in acknowledging themselves guilty The sheriff of Ross
took possession of the effects found in the wreck, and the bags of dollars
that the villains had buried in the sand, and deposited the whole in the
treasury of Dublin for the benefit of the proprietors.
The jjrisoners being brought to trial, they confessed themselves guilty of
the charges alleged in the indictment ; and they were condemned, and
suffered death on the 19th of December, 1765, after which their bodies
were hung in chains in the neighbourhood of Dublin.
FATHER SHEEBY, JAMES BUXTON, AND JAMES FARRELL,
OTHERWISE CALLED BUCK FARRELL.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
About the year 1766 Ireland was first visited by an atrocious gang,
calling themselves White Boys, who committed numerous atrocities in
armed bodies, but whose deeds of blood at this time were only a prelude to
those scenes of horror Avhich have continued to be enacted even up to the
present day. They were encouraged, it was reported, by a number of dis-
affected Roman Catholic priests, who seduced various misguided men of
property of their persuasion to connive at and assist them in their nefarious
practices.
In the present instance. Father Sheeby, a Romish priest, persuaded Mr.
Buxton, a gentleman of great property, and JMr. Farrell, a gay, thoughtless
youth, of good family, and many others, to murder several Protestants
who opposed the depredations of the AVhite Boys. On the 28th of
October, 1764, this gang of murderers met on tlie lauds of Shanhally,
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 203
wlici-e they were sworn by Father Sheeby to murder J. BriJge, Esq.,
J. Baonall, Esq., the Rev, Dr. llewitson ; and in fine, every person who
mi<Tht oppose them. He also swore them to be true to the French king,
and to assist him to conquer Ireland, whereby they might completely
establish the Roman Catholic Religion. Thus prepared, these enthusiasts
sallied out in pursuit of the blood of their fellow-creatures. They soon
seized Mr. Bridge, accused him of giving information against the White
Boys, and insisted that he should contradict upon oath all that he had said
in his information ; and on his refusing to do so, Edward ]\Iecham, one of
the gang (whom, however, we do not find brought to punishment), cleft
nis skull in two with a bill -hook, and he instantly expired in the presence
of the remainder of the gang.
The persons whose names are mentioned above, having been apprehended
on suspicion of being concerned in this cruel murder, were tried at Clonmel,
and being found guilty, were executed in 1766.
WILLIAM GUEST.
EXECUTED FOR DIMINISHING THE COIN OF THE REALM.
Guest was the son of a clergyman of unblemished character, of the city
of Worcester, who placed him apprentice to a genteel business. He passed
the term of apprenticeship to the satisfaction of his master, and then came
to London, and took a shop in Holborn, where he carried on business some
years with the usual success of trade. His father's good name assisted him
in procuring a clerkship in the Bank of England ; and there he pursued a
system of fraud which procured his execution for a crime amounting to
high treason — that of diminishing the gold coin of the realm.
He took a house in Broad-street Buildings, in a room in the upper part
of which he used to work. Having procured a curious luachine for milling
guineas, not unlike that made use of by mathematical instrument-makers,
he used to take guineas from his drawer at the Bank, file them, and return
them to the Bank, and take out guineas of full weight in their stead. Of
the filings he made ingots, which he sold to an assayer, who, on his trial,
deposed that they were of the same standard as our guineas.
About three years before his conviction he became a teller at the Bank,
and 3Ir. Leach, who was also a teller there, observing him picking out new
guineas from the old ones, and having some suspicion, watched him, to
discover whether this was a frequent practice ; and finding that it was, he
communicated his suspicions to some others. On the 4th of July 1766,
Mr. Guest paid thirty guineas to Richard Still, a servant to I\Ir. Corner, a
dyer, at Bankside, Southwark ; and Leach observing him take some gold
out of a bag in the drawer, and put it among the rest on the table, went
after Still, asked him if his monev was rioht, and beoored he would walk
with him into the Pay-ofiice, and let him tell it over. The man consented,
and Leach found three guineas that apix?ared to have been newly filed,
which he took away, giving Still other guineas for them. He then carried
the light guineas into the hall, and showed them to Mr. Robert Bell,
another teller, who carried them to ]\Ir. Race, the principal cashier. The
latter weighed them, and found that they wanted from ten pence to about
204 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
fourteen pence of weight each ; and he then, having examined the edwes,
deUvered them to Leach.
It is a custom at the Bank for the cashier in waiting to take the tellers'
hags every niglit, and lock them up ; and Mr. Race, after these suspicious
circumstances had appeared against Guest, ordered his bags to be examined
after they were taken away. This was done by Mr. Thompson, one of
the under cashiers, and Kemp and Lucas, two in-door tellers, who found
the whole sum they contained to be 1,800/. 16*\ 6d. ; and they found in
one bag forty guineas, which appeared to have been filed on the edges, and
each of whicli was found to be deficient in weight, from eight pence to
fourteen pence.
In consequence of this disclosure, Mr. Sewallls and Mr. Humberton,
servants to the Bank, went with proper officers to search ]Mr. Guest's
house in Broad-street Buildings, and in a room up two pair of stairs, they
found a mahogany nest of drawers, which, being broken open, was dis-
covered to contain a vice, files, an instrument proper for milling the edges
of guineas, two bags of gold fihngs, and one hundred guineas. The nest of
drawers had a flap before, to let down ; and a skin was found lying at the
bottom, fastened to the back part of the flap, with a hole in the front
part, to fasten to a button on the waistcoat, in the manner used by jewellers.
jNIr. Guest was then apprehended, and being brought to trial, was found
guilty, and sentenced to be executed. He subsequently zealously applied
himself to the only duty which remained for him in this life to perform —
that of making his pease with God, and was hanged on the 14th of
October, 1767.
ELIZABETH BROWNRIGG.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
The case of this most notorious criminal is too well remembered to
render any introduction to it necessary. The long scene of torture in which
the inhuman wretch kept the innocent object of her remorseless cruelty ere
she completed the long premeditated murder, requires no comment, engag-
ing as it did the interest, and exciting the horror of all ranks of people, and
rousing tlie indignation of the populace more than the case of any criminal
whose offences it is our duty to record, in the whole course of our melan-
choly narratives.
The wretched subject of this memoir passed the early part of her life in
the service of many respectable families in London ; but at length, being
addressed by James Brownrlgg, a plumber at Greenwich, she consented to
marry him ; and they were accordingly imited in that town. After having
resided at Greenwich during about seven years, they determined to remove
to London, and they, in consequence, rented a house in Flower-de-Luce
(Fleur-de-Lys) Court, Fleet-street, where Brownrlgg carried on his trade
with so much success, that he was enabled to hire a small house at
Islington as a summer retreat. Their means, however, declining as their
family increased to the number of sixteen, Mrs. Brownrlgg applied to the
overseers of the parish of St. Dunstan to be employed in the capacity of
midwife to the workhouse ; and testimonials having been produced of her
ability — for she had already practised midwifery to a considerable extent —
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 205
sbe was duly appointed. Her services were found to give entire satisfac-
tion to the parish-officers, and she now hit upon a new mode of adding to
her income. She, in the year 1765, opened a house in which she adver-
tised her readiness to receive women to lie-in privately ; but finding that
the expense of keeping servants would be very great, slie applied to the
officers of the precinct of Whitefriars and of the Foundling Hospital for
girls to be apprenticed to her, to learn the duties of household servants.
Two girls, named Mary jNIitchell and Mary Jones, were immediately placed
with her, the former from Whitefriars, and the latter from the Foundling
Hospital ; and it would appear, that at first the poor orphans were treated
with some degree of consideration and attention, but as soon as they became
familiar with their mistress and their situation, the slightest inattention
was sufficient to call down upon them the most severe chastisement. The
first girl who experienced this brutal treatment was Jones ; and it appears
that her mistress would frequently, upon the smallest possible provocation,
lay her down across two chairs in the kitchen, and there whip her until
she was compelled, from mere weariness, to desist. The usual termination
of this scene of disgusting inhumanity was, that the mistress would throw
water over her victim, or dip her head into a bucket of water, and then
dismiss her to her own apartment. The room appointed for the girl to
sleep in adjoined the passage leading to the street-door ; and, after she had
suffered this maltreatment for a considerable time, as she had received
many wounds on her head, shoulders, and various parts of her body, she
determined not to bear such usage any longer, if she could secure her liberty.
Observing that the key was left in the street-door when the family went
to bed, therefore, she opened it cautiously one morning, and escaped into
the street. Thus freed from her horrid confinement, she repeatedly
inquired her way to tlie Foundling Hospital until she found it, and was
admitted after describing in what manner she had been treated, and show-
ing the bmises she had received.
The child having been examined by a surgeon, (who found her wounds
to be of a most alarming nature,) the governors of the hospital ordered Mr.
Plumbtree, their solicitor, to write to James Brownrigg, threatening a
prosecution, if he did not give a proper reason for the severities exercised
toward tlie child ; but no notice of this having been taken, the governors
of the hospital thinking it imprudent to indict at common law, the girl was
discharged, in consequence of an application to the chamberlain of London.
The other girl, Mary INIitchell, continued with her mistress for the space
of a year, during which she was treated with equal cruelty, and she also
at length resolved to quit her service. An opportunity soon presented
itself which favoured her design ; but having escaped from the house, she
was met in the street by the younger son of Brownrigg, who forced her to
return home, where her sufferings were greatly aggravated on account of
her elopement. In the interim Mrs. Brownrigg found it necessary to fill
up the place occupied by her late apprentice, Mary Jones ; and she
applied again to the overseers of tlie precinct of Whitefriars, who, having
learned nothing of the ill-behaviour of the woman, bound a girl named
Mary Clifford to her, who was doomed to fall a victim to her brutality,
and to be the cause of her eventual execution. It was not long before the
new apprentice experienced equal if not greater cruelties than those inflicted
upon the other unfortunate girls. She was frequently tied up naked and
206 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
beaten with a hearth-broom, a horsewhip, or a cane, till she was abso-
lutely speechless ; and the poor girl having a natural infirmity, her
mistress would not permit her to lie in a bed, but placed her on a mat in
a coal-hole that was remarkably cold. After some time, however, a sack
and a quantity of straw formed her bed, instead of the mat ; but during
her confinement in this wretched situation, she had nothing to subsist on
but bread and water ; and her covering, during the night, consisted only
of her own clothes, so that she sometimes lay almost perished with cold.
On a particular occasion, when she was almost starving with hunger,
she broke open a cupboard in search of food, but found it empty ; and on
another day, being parched with thirst, she tore down some boards in order
to procure a draught of water. These acts of what were deemed daring
atrocity by her inhuman mistress, immediately pointed her out as a proper
mark for the most rigorous treatment ; and, having been stripped to the
skin, she was kept naked during the whole day, and repeatedly beaten
with the but-end of a whip. In the course of this barbarous conduct
Mrs. Brownrigg fastened a jack-chain round her neck so tight as almost to
strangle her, and confined her by its means to the yard-door, in order to
prevent her escape, in case of her mistress' strength reviving, so as to
enable her to renew the severities which she was inflicting on her ; and a
day having passed in the exercise of these most atrocious cruelties, the
miserable girl was remanded to her cellar, her hands being tied behind her,
and the chain being still round her neck, to be ready for a renewal of the
cruelties on the following day. Determined then upon pursuing the
wretched girl still further, Mrs. Brownrigg tied her hands together with
a cord, and fixing a rope to her wrists, she drew her up to a water-pipe,
which ran across the kitchen ceiling, and commenced a most unmerciful
castigation, but the pipe giving way in the midst of it, she caused her
husband to fix a hook in the beam, and then again hoisting up her miser-
able victim, she horsewhipped her until she was weary, the blood flowing
at nearly every stroke. Nor was Mrs. Brownrigg the only tormentor of
this wretched being, for her elder son having one day ordered her to put
up a half-tester bedstead, her strength was so far gone that she was unable
to obey him, on which he whipped her until she sunk insensible under
the lash.
At length the unhappy girl, being unable any longer to bear these
unheard-of cruelties, complained to a French lady who lodged in the
house, and entreated her interference to procure some remission of the
frightful barbarities which had been practised upon her. The good-
natured foreigner appealed to Mrs. Brownrigg, showing to her the
inhumanity of her behaviour ; but the only effect produced was a volley of
abuse levelled at the person who interposed, and an attempt, on the part
of the monster, to cut out the tongue of her apprentice with a pair of
scissors, in the course of which she wounded her in two places.
The close of this prolonged tragedy, however, now approached, when
the disgusting barbarity of Mrs. Brownrigg, at which the heart recoiU
and sickens, was to be discovered and punished. In the month of July,
the step-mother of Clifford, who had been living out of town, came to
London for the purpose of inquiring after her daughter ; and, learning from
the parish-officers that she was in the service of jMrs. Brownrigg, she
immediately proceeded to her house, and requested to be allowed to see
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 207
her. She was, however, refused admittance by Mr. Brownrigg, who even
threatened to carry her before the lord mayor if she came there to make
further disturbances ; and upon this she was going away, when Mrs.
Deacon, wif»> of Mr. Deacon, baker, at the adjoining house, called her iu,
and informed her that she and her family had often heard moanings and
froans issue from Brownrigg's house, and that she suspected the apprentices
were treated with unwarrantable severity.
The suspicions of the neighbourhood having thus been raised, every
means was employed to procure the unravelment of the truth, and the;
proceedings of the guilty parties themselves obtained the discovery of all
their wickedness.
At this juncture jNIr. Brownrigg, going to Hampstead on business,
bought a hog, which he sent home ; and the animal heur^ put into a covered
yard, having a skylight, it was thought necessary to remove the window,
in order to give to it air.
As soon as it was known that the sky-light was removed, Mr. Deacon
ordered his servants to watch, in order, if possible, to discover the girls :
accordingly one of the maids, looking from a window, saw one of them
stooping down. She immediately called her mistress, who procured the
attendance of some of the neighbours, and having all of them been witnesses
to the shocking scene which presented itself, some men got upon the leads,
and dropped bits of dirt, in order to induce the girl to speak to them ;
but she seemed wholly incapable. Mrs. Deacon then sent to Clifford's
mother-in-law, who immediately called upon Mr. Grundy, one of the
overseers of St. Dunstan's, and represented the case. Mr. Grundy and the
rest of the overseers, with the women, went and demanded a sight of Mary
Clifford ; but Brownrigg, who had nicknamed her Nan, told them that he
knew no such person ; but, if they wanted to see jNIary (meaning Mary
Mitchell), they might, and she accordingly produced her. Upon this Mr.
Deacon's servant declared that ]Mary Mitchell was not the girl they wanted,
and Mr. Grundy now sent for a constable to search the house. An
examination took place, but, the girl being concealed, she was not found ;
and the officers, notwithstanding the threats of Brownrigg, took Mitchell
away. On their arriving at the workhouse, she was found to be in a most
wretched state. Her body was covered with vilcerated sores ; and on her
taking off her leathern boddice, it stuck so fast to her wounds that she
shrieked with the pain ; but, on being treated with great humanity, and
told that she should not be sent back to Brownrigg's, she gave an account
of the cruelties which she had undergone, which she described as even more
terrible than we have ventured to paint them. She also stated that she
had met her fellow-apprentice on the stairs immediately before the parish
officers entered the house, and added that Mrs. Brownrigg had concealed
her, so that she should not be found. Upon this Mr. Grundy and the
others went back to Brownrigg's, and in spite of his threats of prosecution,
proceeded to take him into custody. He then promised to produce the
girl if he were allowed his liberty, and this being consented to, she was
brought out of a cupboard, under a beaufet in the dining-room.
Words cannot adequately describe the condition of misery in which the
unfortunate girl was found to be on her being examined. Medical
assistance was immediately obtained, and she was pronounced to be in
considerable danger ; and Brownrigg was in consequence taken into
custody, and conveyed to Wood-street Compter. His wife and son.
208 THE NEW NEAVGATE CALENDAR.
alarmed at this proceeding, absconded, carrying with them some articles of
value for their support ; and Brownrigg subsequently being carried before
Mr. Alderman Crossby, was fully committed for trial, upon the charge of
having been guilty of violent assaults. The melancholy death of the girl
Clifford, however, which took place in St. Bartholomew's Hospital a few
days afterwards, altered the complexion of the offence ; and a Coroner's
Inquest having been summoned, a verdict of wilful murder was returned
against the three Brownriggs, father, mother, and son.
The two latter, in the meantime, had shifted about from place to place
in London, and had taken every means in their power to disguise them-
selves ; but at length they removed to Wandsworth, determined to await
there the result of the trial of their relation. It so happened, however,
that they took lodging in the house of a j\Ir. Dunbar, a chandler, and that
person having some suspicion of his guests, watched them narrowly; and
seeinof an advertisement which described their persons exactly, as being
participators in the murder wlUch had been committed, he caused their
apprehension.
At the ensuing session at the Old Bailey the three prisoners were brougiit
to trial ; and, after an investigation of eleven hours' duration, Mrs. Brown-
rigg was capitally convicted ; but her husband and son were found not
guilty of the offence imputed to them. ]\Irs. Brownrigg was immediately
sentenced to undergo the extreme penalty of the law, while the partici-
pators in her guilt were detained for trial on the minor charge of misde-
meanor, of which they were eventually convicted, and were sentenced to
six months' imprisonment.
After sentence had been pronounced, the unfortunate woman addressed
herself to the Almighty ; and, being attended by the ordinary of the jail,
she confessed to him the enormity of her guilt, and that the punishment
which awaited her was a just one. The parting between her and her
husband and son is described to have been one which exhibited the
strongest affection to exist, and which appeared to call up all those better
feelings of the heart in the breast of this wretched woman, which must
have lain dormant during the whole course of the maltreatment to which
she subjected her wretched apprentices. On her way to the scaffold she
was assailed by the mob, who expressed the most immitigated disgust for
her crime ; and, before the termination of her existence, she appeared to be
fully sensible of the awful situation in which she stood, and prayed the
ordinary to acquaint the people that she confessed her crime, and acknow-
ledged the justice of her sentence.
After her execution, which took place at Tyburn, September the 14th,
1767, her body was put into a hackney-coach, and conveyed to Surgeons'
Hall, where it was dissected, and her skeleton hung up.
JOHN WILLIAxMSON.
EXECUTED FOR Ml'RDER.
The case of this criminal is a fit companion for that of the wretched
being whose fate we last described.
Williamson was the son of people in but indifferent circumstances, who
put him apprentice to a shoemaker. When he came to be a journeyman
he pursued his business with industry; and in a short time he married an
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 209
honest and sober woman, by whom he had three children. His wife
dvinw, he continued some time a widower, maintaining himself and his
children in a decent manner.
At lenofth he contracted an acquaintance with a young woman deficient
in point of intellect, to whom he made proposals of marriage, in the anti-
cipation of receiving a small sum of money, which her relations had left
her for her maintenance. The woman was nothing loth, and notwith-
standing the opposition of her guardians, Williamson having procured a
licence, the marriage was solemnized ; and he in consequence received the
money which he expected.
Within three weeks after the marriage, his ill-treatment of his unhappy
wife commenced ; and having frequently beaten her in the most barbarous
manner, he at length fastened the mi3erable creature's hands behind her with
handcuffs ; and, by means of a rope passed through a staple in the ceiling
of a closet where she was confined, drew them so tight above her head,
that only the tips of her toes touched the ground. On one side of the
closet was now and then put a small piece of bread-and-butter, so that she
could just touch it with her mouth ; and she was daily allowed a small
portion of water. She once remained a whole month Avithout being released
from this miserable condition ; but during that time she occasionally re-
ceived assistance from a female lodger in the house, and a little girl,
Williamson's daughter by his former wife. The girl having once released
the poor sufferer, the inhuman villain beat her with great severity ; but
when the father was abroad, the child frequently gave the unhappy woman
a stool to stand upon, by which means her pain was in some degree abated.
On the Sunday preceding the day on which she died, Williamson released
his wife ; and at dinner-time cut her some meat, of which, however, she
ate only a very small quantity. Her hands being greatly swelled through
the coldness of the weather and the pain occasioned by the handcuffs, she
begged to be permitted to go near the fire ; and the daughter joining in
her request,, Williamson complied ; but tchen she had sat a few minutes,
her husband, observing her throwing the vermin that swarmed upon
her clothes into the fire, ordered her to " return to her kennel." She
immediately went back to the closet, the door of which was locked till the
next day, and she was then found to be in a delirious state, in which she
continued till the time of her death, which happened about two o'clock on
the Tuesday morning.
The coroner's jury being summoned to sit on the body, ]\[r. Barton, a
surgeon, of Redcross- street, who had opened it, declared that he was of
opinion that the deceased had perished through the want of the common
necessaries of life ; and other evidence being adduced to criminate William-
son, he was committed to Newgate.
At the ensuing sessions at the Old Bailey he was brought to trial before
Lord Chief Baron Parker ; and the principal witnesses against him were
his daughter, Jlrs. Cole, and Mr. Barton, the surgeon who opened the
body of the deceased.
The prisonei-'s defence was exceedingly frivolous. He said his wife had
provoked him by treading upon a kitten, and killing it, and then turning
up the whites of her eyes. He had the effrontery also to declare to the
Court that he had not abridged his wife of any of the necessaries of life ;
VOL. 1. E E
210
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
and after sentence of death was pronounced, he reflected upon his daughter
as being the cause of his destruction.
Being put into the cells, he sent for a clergyman, and acknowledged that
he had treated his wife in the cruel manner represented upon the trial ;
adding, however, that he had no design of depriving her of life : and he
afterwards behaved in a decent and penitent manner.
He was conveyed to the place of execution in a cart, attended by two
clergymen and a methodist preacher. The gallows was placed on the
rising ground opposite Chiswell-street, in Moorfields ; and after he had
sung a psalm, and prayed some time with an appearance of great devotion,
he vtas turned off, January 19th, 1767. amidst an amazing concoui-se of people.
His body was conveyed to Surgeons' Hall for dissection, and his children
were placed in Cripplegate workhouse.
SARAH METYARD AND SARAH ]\rORGAxN METYARD.
EXECUTED FOK THE MURDERS OF PARISH APPRENTICES.
A SINGLE year had not elapsed since the public example made of
Elizabeth Brownrigg, to which the public indignation was yet alive, when
these two, if possible, more cruel women, were found guilty of torturing
their apprentices to death.
Sarah ]Metyard was a milliner, and her daughter her assistant, in Bniton-
street, Hanover-square, London.
In the year 1758 the mother had five apprentice girls bound to her from
different pari^^h workhouses, among whom were Anne Naylor and her sister,
Anne Xavlor, beino- of a sickly constitution, was not able to do so much
work as the other apprentices, and she therefore became the more immediate
object of the fury of her mistress. The ill-treatment which she experienced
at length induced the unhappy girl to abscond ; but being pursued, she
was brought back and confined in an upper apartment, where her food
consisted ^f a small piece of bread and a draught of water only each day.
Seizincr an opportunity, she again attempted to escape ; but her young
mistress was in time to see her run out, and, following her and seizing her
by the neck, she brought her back, and with great violence thrust her into
an upper room. The old woman then interfered, and catching the girl, she
threw her on the bed, while her daughter beat her unmercifully with a
hearth-brush. This done, they put her into a back room, and fixing a
cord round her waist, they tied her hands behind her, and fastened her to
the handle of the door so as to prevent her sitting or lying down ; and in
order that the example of her punishment might intimidate her fellow-
apprentices, thev were ordered to work in the adjoining apartment, strict
injunctions, however, being given to them to afford the prisoner no relief
whatever.
In this condition, without the smallest nourishment of any kind, the
WTCtched girl remained for three days and two nights, when having been
let loose, in order that she might go to bed, she crept up to the garret in a
state of the greatest exhaustion. On the fourth day she Altered in her
speech, but was nevertheless again conveyed to what was worse than her
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 211
condemned cell, and there, in the course of a very short time, she expired^
her body being suspended by the cords which had been again placed round
her person. The other girls, seeing that her whole weight was thus sup-
ported, cried out that she did not move ; and the younger Metyard coming
up, said, " If she does not move soon, I'll make her,'' and immediately beat
her on the head with the heel of a shoe ; but finding that in trutli she was
senseless, she sent for her mother to come and assist her. The body was
then released from its bonds, and efforts were made to restore animation, but
without effect ; and Mrs. Metyard being convinced that the child was dead,
removed her remains into the garret. On tlie return of the other children,
who had been sent out of the way, they were informed that the girl had
been in a fit, but was perfectly recovered ; and it was added tliat she was
now locked in a garret, in order that slie should not run away : and to
strengthen the effect of this story, a plate of meat was sent up to the room
where the body lay in tlie middle of the day for her dinner.
On the fourth day, a design was formed to follow up the tale which had
been related ; and the body of the deceased having been locked in a box,
the garret-door and the street-door were left open, and one of the appren-
tices was desired to call Nanny down to dinner, and to tell her that if she
would promise to behave well in future, she would be no longer confined.
Upon the return of the child, she said Nanny was not above stairs ; and
after a great parade in searching every part of the house, the Metyards
reflected upon her as being of an untractable disposition, and pretended that
she had run away.
The sister of the deceased, who was apprenticed to the same mistress,
mentioned to a lodger in the house that she was persuaded her sister was
dead ; observing, that it was not probable she had gone away, since her
shoes, shift, and other parts of her apparel still remained in the garret ;
and the suspicions of this girl coming to the knowledge of the inhuman
wretches, they, with a view of preventing a discovery, »3ruelly murdered
her, and secreted the body.
The body of Anne remained in the box two months, during which time
the garret-door was kept locked, lest the offensive smell should lead to a
discovery ; but the stench at length becoming very powerful, they judged
it prudent to remove the remains of the unhappy victim of their barbarity ;
and, therefore, in the evening of the 25th of December, they cut the body
in pieces, and tied the head and trunk up in one cloth, and the limbs in
another, excepting one hand, a finger belonging to which had been ampu-
tated before death, which they resolved to burn.
When the apprentices were gone to bed, the old woman put the hand
into the fire, saying, " The fire tells no tales;" but fearing that the con-
sumption of the whole body would create an unpleasant smell, they deter-
mined to dispose of its parts by throwing them into the common sewer in
Chick -lane. Being unable to effect this, however, they left them among
the mud and water that was collected before the grate of the sewer ; and
some pieces of the body being discovered about twelve o'clock by the
watchman, he mentioned the circumstance to the constable of the night.
The constable applied to one of the overseers of the parish, by whose
direction the parts of the body were collected and taken to the watch-
house. On the following day the matter was communicated to Mr.
Umfreville, the coroner, who examined the pieces found by the watchman ;
212 THE NEW NEAVGATE CALENDAR.
l)ut, supposing tliem to be parts of a corpse taken from a cliurchyard for
the use of some surgeon, lie declined summoning a jury.
Four years elapsed before the discovery of these horrid murders ; but
at length the dissensions which frequently occurred between their wretched
perpetrators procured their apprehension and conviction. It appears that
the mother was in the habit of treating her daughter with a brutality
almost equal to that which she had exhibited to her apprentices, and about
two years after the murders a gentleman of the name of Rooker took
lodgings in the house of Metyard, where he lived about three months,
during which time he had frequent opportunities of observing the severity
which she suffered.
He afterwards hired a house in Hill-street, and, influenced by compas-
sion for her sufferings, and being desirous of relieving her from the tyranny
of her mother, he invited the girl to live in his family in the capacity of a
servant ; which offer she cheerfully embraced, though her mother had
many times violently opposed her desire of going to service. The girl had
no sooner removed to JNIr. Rooker's house than the old woman became
perfectly outrageous ; and it was almost her daily practice to create dis-
turbances in Mr. Rooker's neighbourhood, by venting the most bitter
execrations against the girl, and branding her with the most opprobrious
epithets. Mr. Rooker subsequently removed to Ealing, to reside on a little
estate bequeathed him by a relation ; and having by this time seduced the
girl, she accompanied him, and lived with him professedly in the character
of his mistress.
The old woman's visits were not less frequent at Ealing than they liad
been at Mr. Rooker's house in London ; nor was her behaviour less out-
rageous.
On the 9th of June 1768, being admitted to the house, she teat her
daucrhter in a terrible manner ; and during the contention many expressions
were uttered by both parties that gave great uneasiness to Mr. Rooker.
The mother called Mr. Rooker " the old perfumed tea-dog ;" and the girl
retorted by saying, " Remember, mother, you are the perfumer ; you art
the Chick-lane ghost."
The mother having retired, ]\Ir. Rooker urged the girl to explain what
was meant to be insinuated by the indirect accusations introduced by both
parties in the course of the dispute ; and, bursting into tears, she confessed
the particulars of the murders, begging that a secret so materially affecting
her mother might never be divulged.
Mr. Rooker imagined that the daughter could not be rendered amenable
to the law, as she performed her share in the murders by the direction of
her mother, and he wrote to the overseers of the parish of Tottenham,
acquainting them Avitli what he had learned. The elder Metyard was in
consequence taken into custody ; and the evidence against her being con-
clusive, she was fully committed for trial. Some circumstances, however,
having come out Avhich served to criminate her daughter, she also was
secured, and with her mother was sent to Newgate to abide her trial.
When arraigned upon the indictment preferred against them at the
ensuing Old Bailey Sessions, they bitterly reproached one another with the
part each had taken in the affair ; and if any evidence of their guilt had
been wanting, their own declarations at this time would have been suffi-
cient to secure their conviction. The jury immediately found them guilty,
THE iNEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 213
and tliey were sentenced to undergo the severest penalty of the law. The
younofer prisoner pleaded that she was pi-egnant, on being called up to
receive judgment ; but a jury of matrons being assembled, they declared
her plea false, and she was sentenced immediately.
On the day fixed for their execution, the elder prisoner was found to be
in a state of utter insensibility, and in that condition she was carried to the
scaffold, and, all efforts to restore her having failed, was turned off. Her
dauohter prayed for a few minutes with the ordinary who attended her,
but was in almost as melancholy a condition as her mother.
Tliey were executed at Tyburn on the 19th July 1768, and their bodies
were afterwards dissected at Surgeons' Hall.
FREDERIC, LORD BALTIMORE ; ELIZABETH GRIFFEN-
BURG ; AND ANNE HARVEY.
TRIED FOR THE COMMISSIOX OF A RAPE, THE FEMALES AS ^.CCESSORIES
BEFORE THE FACT.
Although the trial of these persons was not followed by a conviction,
the extraordinary nature of the transactions described by the prosecutrix in
the case renders it our duty to state the facts alleged as they appeared at
the trial.
The title which was inherited by Lord Baltimore, who was a peer of
Ireland, was originally granted by James I. to Mr, Calvert, from whom
he was lineally descended, together with a large tract of land in America,
now called Maryland. His lordship is related to have exhibited a taste
for knowledge in early life, and was sent from Epsom, where he was born,
to Eton, where he soon gained a considerable acquaintance with the classics.
His father dying before he was of age, left him an ample fortune ; and he
is said to have shown at this time the existence of that passion which sub-
sequently brought him into the difficulty from which he was compelled to
extricate himself before a jury of his country.
In obedience to the custom of the times, the young lord proceeded to
perform the grand tour ; and it is reported that having sailed from Naples
to Constantinople, he there imbibed so great an admiration for the manners
of the Turks, that on his return to England in 1766, he caused a portion of
his family mansion to be taken down, and to be rebuilt in the form of a
harem. His lordship was not long in completing his new establishment ;
and, like the persons whose customs he imitated, he gave to its inmates
certain rules, by which he directed that their conduct and demeanouv
should be regulated.
The disgusting passions of his lordship, however, knew no bounds ; and
agents were employed in London, whose duty it was to select new objects
for the gratification of his lustful desires. Amongst others who were thus
engaged in this degrading office were the women Griffenburg, who was a
native of Germany, and the wife of a Dr. Griffenburg, and Harvey, whose
names appear at the head of this article. They were both women of low
education, and their duty was to discover and point out persons who might
be deemed worthy of the attentions of their employer, and in case of necessity
to aid him in securing tlie end which he had in view. In the course of their
214 THE NEW JVEWGATE CALENDAR.
brutal and inhuman searches in this occupation, they unfortunately disco-
vered a young woman of considerable personal attractions, and of some
respectability, named Woodcock, who kept a milliner's shop on Tower-
hill ; and JMrs. Harvey acquainting his lordship with her residence, in
November 1767, he directly proceeded to the spot for the purpose of
pursuing his diabolical designs. Calling at Miss Woodcock's shop, he
purcliased some articles of trifling value, with a view of making an
acquaintance with her ; and then having succeeded in opening a conversa-
tion with lier, he invited her to accompany him to the theatre. Miss Wood-
cock declined the oft'er, saying that her religious opinions taught her to
believe that theatrical entertainments were incompatible with the due
exercise of tlie worship of the Almighty ; and his lordship finding ail his
eftbrts to attain his object vain, retired, but only to put his agent, Mrs
Harvey, to work.
Introducing herself as a customer, this infamous woman called repeatedly
at the shop of her intended victim, and purchased ruffles and other articles
of millinery. On the 14th of December, however, she proceeded to
take active measures in her plot ; and then ordering a pair of lace ruffles
to be made by the following day, she directed Miss Woodcock to take tliem
herself to her residence in the Curtain-road, Shoreditch, declaring that
they were for a lady of rank and fortune, who was desirous of encourag-
ino- her in her business, and who, if the order was punctually obeyed,
would, without doubt, become an excellent customer.
The ruffles were finished and carried home at the appointed time : and
then Miss Woodcock being invited in, was received politely by Mrs.
Harvey, who pressed her to stay to tea. She declined the invitation, on
the ground that it would be dark before she could reach home if she
remained ; but at this moment a man named Isaacs came in, who said that
he was going to the tlieatre, and Mrs. Harvey expressing a desire at once
to convey the goods which had been brought to her to the lady for whom
they were ordered, it was eventually agreed, after some objections on tiie
part of Miss Woodcock as to her dress, that as Isaacs must hire a coach,
they should all go together.
At this time Lord Baltimore's carriage was waiting in the neighbour-
hood, and the Jew going out, called it up, and all three got into it,
Miss Woodcock making no remark as to whether it was a private or a
hired conveyance. The coachman drove at a great pace ; and after they
had traversed many streets, the vehicle was driven into the court-yard
of a house which appeared to be that of a person of consideration. Mrs.
Harvey and ]\Iiss Woodcock then alighted, and being ushered into the
house, they were conducted through several apartments until they reached
one in which an elderly gentleman, afterwards known as Dr. Griffenburg,
was seen seated ; and he immediately retired, saying that he would acquaint
the lady of the house with their arrival. Lord Baltimore soon afterwards
entered ; and JMiss Woodcock was alarmed to find that he was the person
who had visited her shop. He bid her rest quiet, however, saying that he
was only the steward of the lady whom she was to see, and then quitted
the room, but soon afterwards returned with Mrs. Griffenburg, who
conversed with her as if she had expected her coming and was the lady of
the house. Orders were afterwards given for tea ; and on the equipage
beino- removed from the table. Lord Baltimore presented some trii^kets to
THE NIAV NEWGATE CALENDAR. 215
Miss Woodcock, which he said he had purchased for her. As the evening
advanced she became anxious to return, and expressi'd her fears that her
relatives woukl be surprised at her long absence ; but his lordship, in order
to divert her from this purpose, took her to view the apartments in the
house, and at length, on her becoming still more importunate, insisted that
she should stay for supper. Private orders having been given for the pre-
paration of this meal, and Mrs. Griffenburg having retii'ed, his lordship
bet^an taking liberties of an indecent character with the young lady ; but
on her exclaiming against this treatment, Mrs. Harvey and Dr. Griffenburg
appeared, as if to aid in opposing her escape in the event of her attempting
to obtain her liberty. Supper was soon afterwards served ; but it does
not appear that any idea was entertained by Miss Woodcock of an inten-
tion to detain her forcibly until after this meal, when Lord Baltimore told
her that there were no coaches to be had then, and that she must remain
for the night.
Mrs. Griffenburg and jNIrs. Harvey now endeavoured to prevail on the
young lady to go to bed ; but she declared that she would never sleep in
that house ; and although they conducted her to a room in which they
went to rest, she continued walking about till the morning, and lamenting
her unhappy fate. Looking out of the window at about eight o'clock, she
observed a young woman passing, to whom she threw out her handkerchief,
which was then heavy with tears, intending to attract her attention and
send to her father for assistance ; but the two women, jumping out of bed,
prevented the possibility of her holding any communication with her, and
upbraided her for what they called the rejection of her good fortune,
declaring their wishes that they were in her liappy situation.
The women now quitting the room. Lord Baltimore a:id Dr. Griffenburg
came in soon afterwards ; when the former said that he was astonished at
her outrageous behaviour, as he had promised that she should go home at
twelve o'clock : but she replied that they had no right to detain her, and
that she would go home directly, as her sister, and pai'ticularly her father,
would be inexpressibly anxious on occasion of her absence.
To this no answer was made ; but Lord Baltimore conducted her down
stairs, and ordered breakfast. She refused, however, to eat, and having
wept incessantly till twelve o'clock, at that hour she once more demanded
her liberty. His lordship then said that he loved her to excess ; that he
could not part with her ; but that he did not intend any injury to her, and
would write to her father : and on this he wrote a letter, of which the
following is a copy, and in it sent a bank-note of two hundred pounds : —
" Your daughter Sally sends you the enclosed, and desires you will not
be uneasv on lier account, because everything will turn out well with a
little patience and prudence. She is at a friend's house safe and well, in all
honesty and honour ; nothing else is meant, you may depend on it ; and,
sir, as your presence and consent are necessary, we beg of you to come in a
private manner to Mr. Richard Smith's in Broad-street Buildings."
Having addressed this to her father, he showed it to her, and desired
that she would write a few words at the bottom, signifying her compliance
with its terms ; and terrified by her condition, she wrote, " Dear Father —
This is true, and should be glad you would come this afternoon. Your
dutiful daughter." — From the statement of the young lady, it appears that
after this she conjured his lordship to give her her liberty, pointing out to
216 THE XE\V NEWGATE CALENDAR.
him, in the most striking manner, the. degradation to which she was
subjected ; but all her arguments were in vain, and she was again compelled
to pass the night, as before, in the room with Mrs. Griffenburg and Mrs.
Harvey. In tlie morning, by permission of his lordship, she wrote a letter
to her father, desiring him to come to her immediate assistance, but saying
that she had been treated with " as much honour as she could expect ;" but
she still declined holding any conversation with his lordship, and used all
her efforts to make her situation known to the passers-by. In this, how-
ever, she was checked by his lordship and the women, who threatened to
throw her out of window in the event of her making any disturbance.
Towards the middle of the day she was told that her father had called at
Mr. Smith's, but had refused to wait tmtil she was sent for ; but at mid-
night Mr. Broughton, his lordship's steward, brought intelligence that
Isaacs, the Jew, having offered a letter to JNIiss Woodcock's father, was
stopped till he should give an account where the young lady was secreted.
Lord Baltimore was, or affected to be, in a violent passion, and vowed
veno-eance against the father ; but in the interim the Jew entered, and
deUvered a letter which he pretended to have received from Miss Wood-
cock's sister, and she took it to read : but she had wept so much that
her eyes were sore; and of all she read, she could only recollect this
passage : — " Only please to appoint a place where and when we may meet
with you."
The hour of retirement being now arrived, IMiss Woodcock refused to go
up stairs, unless she might be assured of not receiving any insult from his
lordship. She had not taken any sustenance since she entered the house ;
and on this night she lay down in her clothes on a bed in which Mrs.
Harvey reposed herself. She then asked this woman if she liad ever been
in love, and acknowledged that she herself was addressed by a young
fellow, who appeared very fond of her, and that they were to settle in
business as soon as the marriage should take place ; and she desired Mrs.
Harvey to show her the way out of the house tliat had been so obnoxious
to her : but the answer of the latter was, that though she had lived in the
house several years, she did not herself know the way out of it.
On the following morning, when Miss AVoodcock went down stairs, she
pleaded earnestly with Lord Baltimore for lier liberty ; on which he became
most violently enraged, called her by the vilest names, and said that if she
spoke to him on the subject any more, he would either throw her out of
the window, or send her home in a wheelbarrow witli her petticoats tied
over her head ; and turning to Isaacs the Jew, he said, " Take the slut to a
mean house like herself ;" which greatly terrified her, as she presumed he
'^eant a house of ill fame.
The sufferings she had undergone having by this time made her extremely
, Lord Baltimore mixed a draught for her, which he insisted on her
drinking ; and in the afternoon he compelled her to sit by his side to hear
him converse upon subjects of religion, in the course of which, however, he
ridiculed everything sacred, and denied the existence of a soul.
After supper he made six several attempts to ravish her within two
hours ; but she repulsed him in such a determined manner, that he failed in
accomplishing his dishonourable purpose. On that night she lay with Mrs.
Harvey, but could get no rest, as she was in fear of renewed insults from
his lordship.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 217
On the ]\Ionday morning shfe was told that she sliould see her father ;
and having been supplied with a change of linen by Mrs. Griffcnburg, she
was about mid-day hurrieil into a coach with Lord Baltimore, Dr. Grif-
fenburg, and the two women, and with them conveyed to Epsom, where,
as we have already said, his lordship had a country-seat. Here she was
told that resistance was useless, and that whatever objectxn she might
make to submit to his lordship's desires, force would be used if her consent
was not given. At supper she partook of some refreshment ; and imme-
diately afterwards she was conducted to a bedchamber, accompanied by the
two women, who began to undress her. From weakness she was unable
to make ranch resistance ; and from the same cause she was prevented
from opposing Lord Baltimore, who, it turned out, was in a bed which was
in the apartment, and who, in spite of her cries and entreaties, twice
effected his horrid purpose. In the morning Mrs. Harvey came to her,
and she told her what had passed ; but the only ansAver which was o-iven,
was a desire that she would make no more fuss, for that she had made
noise enough already. It would appear that after this the proceedings of
his lordship were, to a certain extent, acquiesced in by ]\Iiss Woodcock ;
but it was not until several days had elapsed that she ascertained the name
of the person who had dishonoured her. On the afternoon on which she
made this discovery, the whole party returned to London, and i\Iiss Wood-
cock was there introduced to Madame Saunier, the governess of his lord-
ship's illegitimate children. On the next day his lordship gave her some
money ; and when night advanced, directed that she should repair to his
bed. Having been permitted on the night before to sleep by herstdf, she
requested that the same favour might be again granted to her ; but his
lordship's commands being positive that she should share his couch, she
consented on certain terms, which were fulfilled, while, according to her
statement, a crime of a still more atrocious nature was committed.
It may now be inquired whether no steps were taken by Miss Wood-
cock's friends in order to procure her discovery, and her return to the roof
of her parents ; and it appears that some circumstances having been learned
which induced them to guess the real place of her concealment, Davis, her
lover, proceeded to Southampton-row, Bloomsbury, where his lordship's
house was situated, and while watching there saw her at the window. He
immediately communicated the discovery which he had made to her father,
and the advice of Mr. AYatts, an attorney, having been taken, a writ of
habeas corpus was obtained. These proceedings, however, were heard of
by his lordship, and he conversed with Miss Woodcock on the subject,
and, as she alleged, extorted from her a promise to declare that she had
remained at his house voluntarily and of her own free-will, promising to
recompense her by settling upon her an annuity for life. She in conse-
quence wrote a letter to her father to that effect, which was delivered by
one of his lordship's servants; and on Mr. Watts' proceeding to the house
to serve the writ of habeas corpus^ she made a declaration to him having
the same tendency. Lord Baltimore then said that it was necessary that
she should go before Lord jMansfield and make a similar statement, and
she was accordingly conveyed to his lordship's house in Bloomsbury-square.
They were there shown into different apartments ; and JMiss Woodcock's
friends having heard of the proceeding, were also in attendance in an
ante-chamber, where they av/aited the result of the conference.
VOL. I. F F
2(3 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
The young lady, on being examined by Lord IVIansfield, expressed
her willingness to remain with Lord Baltimore, but desired to see her
friends first. She was then conducted to the room where her father was
awaiting the conclusion of her examination ; and there the first question
which she osked was, " Who is Lord ^Mansfield ?" Having been satisfied
upon this head, and also that he had the power to set her at liberty, she
desired to see him again, and then said that she wished to go home with
her father, and that she would no longer remain with Lord Baltimore.
On jMiss "Woodcock's discharge, INlr. Cay, a baker in Whitecross-street
(to whom her fatlier had delivered the two hundred pound bank-note
which had been enclosed in the letter by Lord Baltimore), conveyed the
youn.o- lady to Sir John Fielding, before whom she swore to the actual
commission of the rape by his lordship.
The two women, the coadjutors of his lordship, had been already taken
into custody, on the charge of decoying away the girl ; and a warrant was
now issued for the apprehension of Lord Baltimore. His lordship, how-
ever, secreted himself for the present, but surrendered himself to the Court
of King's Bench on the last day of Hilary Term, 1768; when the two
women being brought thither by haheas corpus^ they were all admitted
to bail, in order for trial at Kingston, in Surrey, because the crime was
alleged to have been committed at his lordship's seat at Epsom.
In the interim Miss Woodcock went to the house of Mr. Cay, in White-
cross-street ; but not being properly accommodated there, she proceeded to
the house of a friend, where she lived in great privacy and retirement till
the time arrived for the trial of the oftending parties.
Bills of indictment being found against Lord Baltimore and the two
women, they were all brought to trial before Lord Chief Baron Smythe ;
and, after the evidence against them had been given, in substance as may
be collected from the preceding narrative. Lord Baltimore made the follow-
ing defence, which was read in Court by Mr. Hamersley, solicitor to his
lordship : —
'•'■ IMy Lords and Gentlemen, — I have put myself upon my country,
in hopes that prejudice and clamour will avail nothing in this place, where
it is the privilege of the meanest of the king's subjects to be presumed
innocent until his guilt has been made appear by legal evidence. I wish I
could say that I had been treated abroad with the same candour. I have
been loaded with obloquy; the most malignant libels have been circulated,
and every other method which malice could devise has been taken to create
general prejudice against me. I thank God that, under such circumstances,
I have had firmness and resolution enough to meet my accusers face to
face, and provoke an inquiry into my conduct. H\c murus aheneus esto^
— nil consclre sihL The charge against me, and against these poor people
who are involved with me, because they might otherwise have been just
witnesses of my innocence, is in its nature very easy to be made, and hard
to be disproved. The accuser has the advantage of supporting it by a direct
and positive oath ; the defence can only be collected from circumstances.
" My defence is composed, then, of a variety of circumstances, all tending
to show the falsity of this charge, the absurdity of it, the improbability
that it could be true. It will be laid before the jury, under the direction
of my counsel ; and I have the confidence of an innocent man, that it will
e manifest to your lordship, the jury, and the whole world, that the stcry
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. i2 1 9
told by this woman is a perversion of trutli in every particular. What
could induce her to make such a charge, I can only suspect : — Very soon
after she came to my house upon a representation to me that her father
was distressed, I sent him a considerable sum of money : whether the ease
with which that money was obtained from me might suggest the idea, as
a means of obtaining a larger sum of money, or whether it was thought
necessary to destroy me, in order to establisli the character of the girl to
the world, I know not; but I do aver, upon the word of a man of honour,
that there is no truth in anything which has been said or sworn of my
having offered violence to this girl. I ever held such brutality in abhor-
rence. I am totally against all force ; and for me to have forced this
woman, considering my weak state of health, and my strength, is not only
a moral, but a physical impossibility. She is, as to bodily strength,
stronger than I am. Strange opinions, upon subjects foreign to this charge,
have been falsely imputed to me, to inflame this accusation. Libertine as
I am represented, I hold no such opinions. Much has been said against
me, that I seduced this girl from her parents : seduction is not the point
of this charge; but I do assure your lordship and the jury, this part of
the case has been aggravated exceedingly beyond the truth. If I have
been in any degree to blame, I am sure I have sufliciently atoned for every
indiscretion, which a weak attachment to this unworthy woman may have
led me into, by having suffered the disgrace of being exposed as a criminal
at the bar in the county which my father had the honour to represent in
parliament, and where I had some pretensions to have attained the same
honour, had that sort of an active life been my object.
" I will take up no more of your lordship's time than to add that, if I
had been conscious of the guilt now imputed to me, I could have kept
myself and my fortune out of the reach of the laws of this country. I am
a citizen of the world; I could have lived anywhere: but I love my own
country, and submit to its laws, resolving that my innocence should be
justified by the laws. I now, by my own voluntary act, by surrendering
myself to the Court of King's Bench, stake, upon tlie verdict of twelve
men, my life, my fortune, and, what is dearer to me, my honour.
" March 25, 1768." " BALTIMORE."
The substance of the defence of IMrs. Grlffenburg and Mrs. Harvey
consisted principally in alleging that Miss Woodcock had consented to all
that had passed, and that no force had been used towards her either by
Lord Baltimore or themselves.
The whole of the case having now been heard. Lord Chief Baron
Smj'the, in a clear and lucid manner, proceeded to sum up the case to tl;e
jury. Having pointed out to them the law of the case, as it affected the
charge against the prisoners, and their defence, his lordship proceeded to
recapitulate the evidence which had been produced, in doing which he was
occupied during a period of three hours. He concluded by saying, — " In
point of law, the fact is fully proved on my lord and the two other pri-
soners, if you believe the evidence of Sarah Woodcock. It is a crime
which in its nature can only be proved by the woman on whom it is com-
mitted ; for she only can tell whether she consented or no : it is, as my
lord observes, very easy to be made, and hard to be disproved ; and the
defence can only be collected from circumstances ; from these you must
judge whether her evidence is or is not to be believed. Lord Hale, in his
' History of the Pleas of the Crown,' lays down the rules : — 1. If complaint
220 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
is not made soon after the injury is supposed to be received ; 2. If it is
not followed by a recent prosecution ; a strong presumption arises that the
complaint is malicious. She has owned the injury was received December
22 ; the complaint was not made till December 29 ; but she has accounted
for it in the manner you have heard. The strong part of the case on
behalf of the prisonei's is her not complaining when she was at Lord
Mansfield's, the supreme magistrate of the kingdom in criminal matters.
Yon have heard how she has explained and accounted for her conduct in
that particular, which you will judge of. Upon the whole, if you believe
that slie made the discovery as soon as she knew she had an opportunity
jf doing it, and that her account is true, you will find all the prisoners
Guilty ; if you believe that she did not make the discovery as soon as she
had an opportunity, and from thence, or other circumstances, are not satis-
fied her account is true, you will find them all Not guilty : for if he is not
guilty, they cannot be so ; for they cannot be accessory to a crime which
was never committed."
After an absence of an hour and twenty minutes, the jury returned with
a verdict that the prisoners were not guilty.
This singular affair was tried at Kingston, in Surrey, on the 26th of
March, 1768.
It would be useless to offer any observations upon this extraordinary
case. From the verdict returned by the jury, there ought to exist no
doubt of the innocence of the persons charged of the offence imputed to
them ; but although Lord Baltimore and his companions were acquitted
of the charge of rape, there can be little doubt that the ruin of the unfor-
tunate girl Woodcock — even if what was admitted by his lordship were
only true — was the effect of a vile conspiracy among the prisoners to
;<acrifice her to the libertine passions of his lordship.
JOHN WILKES, ESQ.
CONVICTED OF SEDITION AND BLASPHEMY.
TuE year 1768 will ever be memorable in the annals of English
history on account of the murders and mischief committed by a deluded
mob, stimulated by the writings and opposition to the government of
John Wilkes, Esq. an alderman of London, and member of parliament for
Aylesbury.
The most scandalous and offensive of his writings were in a periodical
publication called the " North Briton," No. 45 ; and a pamphlet entitled
" An Essay on Woman*." The " North Briton" was of a political nature ;
* The " E^sav on Woman '' was a paiody on Pope's sublime work, called " An Essay on
>Ian."
A learned divine, the Rev. Mr. Kidgell, thus writes on the works of Wilkes: —
" On the title-page is an obscene print, with a Greek inscription, sienifying ' The Saviour of
the world.' We shall, the poison of the publication being long eradicated, merely quote a
commentator on the subject :
" In this work ('An Essay on Woman') the lewdest thoughts are expressed in terms of tlic
srreatest obscenity ; the most horrid impurity is minutely represented; the sex is vilified and
insulted; and the whole is scurrilous, Impudent, and impious, to an incredible degree. In the
variations and notes the inspired writings are perverted into the gro;s ideas of a libidinous blas-
phemer, with an invention new, wonderful, and horrid. The most solemn and important
passages of the Gospel are tortured into the oblique obscenity of double meanings, worthy only
9f him who is at once the enemy of God and man,"
TUE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 2*21
the other a piece of obscenity : the one calculated to set the people against
the government ; the other to corrupt their morals.
Amongst the ministers who found themselves more personally attacked in
the " North Briton " was Samuel Martin, Esq. member for Camelford. This
gentleman found his character, as secretary to the Treasury, so vilified,
that he called the writer to the field. He had before been engaged in a
duel with Lord Talbot, and had then escaped unhurt, but Mr. Martin shot
liim • and the wound proved so dangerous that he lay uncertain of recover-
intr during several days, and was confined to his house for some weeks.
His sufferings, however, did not end here, for the attorney-general filed
informations against him as author of " The North Briton," No. 45*, and
the pamphlet entitled " An Essay on Woman." On these charges he was
apprehended ; and his papers having been seized and inspected, he was com-
mitted prisoner to the Tower, but was soon admitted to bail. Before his
trial came on, JMr. Wilkes fled to France, under the pretext of restoring
his health, which had suffered from his wound, and the harassing measures
taken against him by the secretaries of state, Lord Egremont and Lord
Halifax ; and no sooner was he out of the kingdom, than tlie ministers
proceeded to outlawry, dismissed him from his command as colonel of the
Buckincrhamshire militia, and expelled him from his seat in parliament.
While in Paris, he was challenged to fight by a Captain Forbes, on
account of the reflections which he had cast upon the birthplace of the
gallant captain, Scotland ; but he declined the invitation, alleging that he
had still an affair to settle with Lord Egremont before he could venture to
take any other duel upon his hands. The death of that noble lord, how-
ever, left him free to fight ; but on his writing to accept the challenge, his
antanfonist was not to be found. Mr. Wilkes subsequently returned to
London, and gave notice that he should appear to answer the charges
preferred against him on a certain day ; and then having appeared in his
place, as an alderman, in Guildhall, on his return, the mob took the horses
from his carriage and dragged it to his house, crying " Wilkes and liberty ! "
On the 21st of February 1764, the trial of Mr, Wilkes, upon the accusa-
tions alleged against him, came on before Lord Mansfield, and he was
found guilty on both charges, subject to arguments upon certain points as
to the validity of his apprehension, the seizure of his papers, and the
judgment of outlawry which had been obtained against him. The discus-
sions preliminary to these arguments occupied the courts at various times
during a space of two years ; and in the mean time, the popularity of Mr.
Wilkes and the outrages of the mob increased daily.
At length, on the 27th of April 1768, Mr. Wilkes having been served
w^ith a writ of Capias utlagatum, was brought to the floor of the Court of
* The paper entitled " Tlie North Britou " was ordered to be burnt by the common execu-
tioner at the Royal Exchange. Mr. Alderman Harley, one of the sheriffs of London, attending
in his ofBcial capacity to see this carried into execution, was assaulted and wounded by the
mob. A man of the name of John Franklin was seized as one of the offenders, and committed
to Newgate. On the day of the conviction of Wilkes he was tried for this outrage at the Old
Bailey, and found guilty.
When the trial was ended, the worthy alderman addressed the Court in behalf of the prisoner.
He said that, for his part, he had forgiven the affront offered to his oivn person ; that justice
required a prosecution : it had been, by the conviction of the offender, in part satisfied, and
therefore he hoped the Court would mitigate his punishment. The Court coo-plied with the
prosecutor's humane request, and senteiik-ed the prisoner to a short imprisonment, to pay a fine
of six shillings and eight pence, and to find security for his good behaviour for one year.
TUE MEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
King's Bench in the custody of the proper officer, in order that the
question of his being admitted to bail might be considered. A long argu-
ment took place, but it terminated in favour of the crown, and ]\Ir. Wilkes
was conveyed to the King's Bench prison. On liis way thither the mob
seized the coach in which he was carried, and taking the horses from it,
dragged him to a public-house in Spitalfields, where they permitted him to
alitrht ; but at about eleven o'clock at night he effected his escape from his
over-zealous friends, and proceeding to the prison, immediately surrendered
himself into lawful custody. On the following day he was visited by many
of his friends ; and a vast mob having collected outside the prison, it was
feared that some outrage would be committed. All remained quiet, however,
until nio-ht, when the rails by which the prison wall was surrounded were
pulled up and burned as a bonfire, and the inhabitants of Southwark were
compelled to illuminate their houses ; but upon the arrival of a captain's
guard of soldiers, the crowd dispersed without doing any further mischief.
On the 2Sth of April the case of outlawry was determined ; and Mr.
Serjeant Glynn having appeared on the part of Mr. Wilkes, and the
Attorney-General for the crown, a learned and lengthy argument was
heard, the result of which was a unanimous expression on the part of the
court that the outlawry must be reversed. The general warrant on which
the accused had been apprehended was next considered and declared illegal ;
but the counsel for the crown then immediately moved that judgment
might be passed upon Mr. Wilkes upon the several convictions which had
taken place. This was answered by a motion on his part in arrest of judg-
ment, and the following Thursday was fixed upon for hearing the point
argued.
In the mean time a mob had remained assembled round the prison whom
no efforts of the civil force could disperse ; but at length the justices
appeared, followed by a troop of soldiers, determined at once to put an end
to the alarming nuisance which had so long existed. All attempts to
procure the separation of the crowd by fair means having failed, the Riot
Act was read ; and this also having no effect, the soldiers were ordered to
fire. The command was instantly obeyed, and many persons were killed
and dangerously wounded, some of whom were passing at a distance from
the scene of confusion.
At length the day arrived on which the last effort was to he made to get
rid of the charges against ]Mr. Wilkes ; but the arguments for an arrest of
judgment, though carried on with great ingenuity, would not hold, and he
was found to have been legally convicted of writing the libels. For that
in the " North Briton " he was fined five hundred pounds, and sentenced to
two years' imprisonment in the King's Bench prison ; and for the " Essay
on Woman " five hundred pounds more, a further imprisonment of twelve
months, and to find security for his good behaviour for seven years.
Previously to his imprisonment Mr. Wilkes had been elected member of
parliament for Middlesex, when the address which he published to his
constituents contained the following passages : — " In the whole progress of
ministerial vengeance against me for several years, I have sliown, to the
conviction of all mankind, that my enemies have trampled on the laws, and
have been actuated by the spirit of tyranny and arbitrary power.
'■'■ The general tcarrant under which I was first apprehended has been
adjudged illegal. The seizure of my papers was coudtmned judicially
yf//A^ .'ju<^.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 223
The outlawry^ so long the topic of violent abuse, is at last declared to have
been contrary to law ; and on the ground first taken by my friend, Mr.
Serjeant Glynn, is formally reversed."
The mob after the election proceeded to the commission of the most violent
ontraoes. They broke the windows of Lord Bute, the prime minister, and
of tlie Mansion House, including even those of the lady mayoress's bed-
chamber, and forced the inhabitants of the metropolis to ihuminate their
houses, crying out " Wilkes and liberty !" and all who refused to echo it
back were knocked down.
A stone was thrown by this daring mob at the Polish Count E,awotski,
which he dexterously caught in his liand, the windows of his carriage in
wliich lie sat being fortunately down ; and his lordship looking out and
smiHng, he received no other violence.
The outrages of the populace were too many to be enumerated ; several
innocent people were killed, and vast numbers wounded. They broke windows
without number, destroyed furniture, and even insulted royalty itself.
These disgraceful tumults were not confined to the metropolis ; and the
lenity, or, as some did not hesitate to assert, the timidity of the government,
spread disaffection into all classes of mechanics, who, thinking the time at
hand when they might exact what wages they pleased, perhaps even
beyond their masters' profits, struck work.
The sailors, following the example of the landsmen, went in a body
of many thousands, with drums beating and colours flying, to St. James's
Palace, and presented a petition to the king, praying a " Relief of Griev-
ances." Two days afterwards they assembled in much greater numbers,
and proceeded as far as Palace Yard, in order to petition Parliament for an
increase of wages ; when they were addressed by two gentlemen standing
on the top of a hackney-coach, who told them that their petition could not
be immediately attended to, but that it would be considered and answered
in due time ; whereupon the tars gave thi-ee cheers, and for a while dis-
persed, A short time afterwards, however, they re-assembled at Limehouse,
and boarding several outward-bound vessels, seized their crews, pretending
that they would not suffer any ships to sail until their wages were
increased. The watermen, the Spitalfields weavers, the sawyers, the
hatters, and the labouring classes in the country, all combined in the
attempt to procure their wages to be raised ; but while in London the
confusion was nearly universal, in the country its effects were confined to
a few districts, where some interested persons managed to excite the
peaceably-disposed people to acts of outrage.
They soon discovered the error into which they had fallen, however ;
and a few of them having suffered execution, and others some severe
imprisonments, they returned to their duty.
The folly of popular commotion was never better exemplified than in
the case of Wilkes, whose patriotism was accidental and mercenary ; for
his letters to his daughter clearly show the contempt with which he
regarded the enthusiasm in his favour, and the object he had in view in
exciting hatred against the government. Many of the deluded people who
shouted " Wilkes and liberty !" were severely injured in the riots ; and
others were subsequently punished by the outraged laws of the country.
In a short time the commotion subsided, and the author of them sunk into
comparative obscurity, in which he continued until his death in 1797, at
the age of seventy years.
2f?4 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENUAU.
MUNGO CAMPBELL.
CONVICTED OF THE MURDER OF THE EARL OF EGLINTON.
Tnis melancholy case arose out of the existing system of game-laws.
The lamented Mr. Campbell was descended from the noble family of
Argj'le, and was born at A}t in Scotland. His father was an eminent
merchant — had been mayor of the town, and a justice of the peace ; but
having no less than twenty-four children, and meeting with many losses
in his commercial transactions, it was impossible for him to make any
adequate provision for his family ; so that on his death, the relations took
care of the children, and educated them in tlie liberal manner which is
customary in Scotland. The unhappy subject of this narrative was pro-
tected by an uncle, who gave h'm a learned education ; but this generous
friend dying when the youth was about eighteen years of age, left him
sixty pounds a year, and earnestly recommended him to the care of his
other relations.
The young man was a finished scholar, but seemed averse to make
choice of any of the learned professions. His attachment appeared to be
to the military life, in which many of his ancestors had distinguished
themselves. He soon followed the bent of his inclinations, and entered as
a cadet in the royal regiment of Scots Greys, then commanded by his
relation. General Campbell, and served during two campaigns, at his
own expense. Being disappointed in obtaining promotion, however, he
returned to Scotland in the year 1745, and Lord Loudon, to whom he was
distantly related, having the command of tlie loyal Highlanders, who
exhibited so much bravery in their opposition to the rebellion, IMr.
Campbell joined that regiment, and his exertions were equally creditable
to his loyalty and his courage.
After the battle of Culloden he was appointed, through the instru-
mentality of Lord Loudon, to fill the situation of an officer of excise, in
Ayrshire ; and notwithstanding the unpleasant nature of his employment,
he succeeded, by his courtesy, in obtaining the good-will of all his neigh-
bours, all of whom, with the exception of the Earl of Eglinton, gave him
permission to kill game on their estates. It was his misfortune to live
immediately adjoining the property of his lordship ; and it would appear
that the noble earl having once detected him in killing a hare, warned him
not to commit a similar ofience again. Mr. Campbell apologised for the
trespass of which he had been guilty, and excused himself by stating that
he was in search of smugglers, and tliat having suddenly started the hare,
he was surprised, and without thinking, he shot it. The ill-will which
was raised in his lordship's mind by this circumstance, was in nowise
removed by some proceedings which Mr. Campbell was compelled to take
against Bartleymore, one of his servants, for smuggling ; and it appears
that his lordship's death was eventually attributable to the steps which he
took at the instigation of this very person.
About ten in the morning of the 24th of October 1769, Campbell took
his gun, and went out with another officer, with a view to detect smugglers.
IMr. Campbell took with him a licence for shooting, which had been given
him by Dr. Hunter, though they had no particular design of killing any
game, but intended to shoot a woodcock if they should see one.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 22.'>
Tliey crossed a small part of Lord Eglinton's estate, in order to reach
the sea-shore, where they intended to walk ; but when they arrived at this
spot it was near noon, and Lord Eglinton came up in his coach, attended
by Mr. Wilson, a carpenter, who was working for him, and followed by
four servants on horseback. On approaching the coast his lordship met
Bartleymore, who told him that there were some poachers at a distance.
Mr. AVilson would have endeavoured to draw off his lordship's notice from
such a business ; but Bartleymore saying that Campbell was among the
poachers. Lord Eglinton quitted his coach, and mounting a led horse, rode
to the spot, where he saw Campbell and the other officer, whose name was
Brown. His lordship said. " Mr. Campbell, I did not expect to have
found you so soon again on my grounds, after your promise when you shot
the hare. I must desire that you will give me your gun." Mr. Campbell
refused to deliver up his property, because he said that he was not employ-
ing it in an unlawful manner, on which Lord Eglinton rode towards him,
apparently with the intention of taking it from him. Mr. Campbell on
this raised his gun, and retreating, presented it at his lordship's body ; but
the latter still followed him, and smiling, asked him if he meant to shoot
him. He said that he would if he did not keep off, and then Lord
Eglinton desired that his gun should be brought to him from the carriao-e.
In the interim, his lordship dismounted, and going close to Mr. Campbell,
again required that he should deliver up the weapon which he carried, but
the latter declared that he had a right to carry it, and that he would deliver
it to no man, and repeated that his lordship must therefore keep off, unless
he wished to be shot. Bartleymore now interfered ; and Mr. Campbell
stumbling against a stone, fell, and Lord Eglinton then advanced as if to
seize him. In a moment, however, Mr. Campbell raised himself on his
elbow, and lodged the contents of his piece in the noble earl's left breast. -
His lordship directly cried out that he was killed, and Mr. Campbell was
seized ; but his lordship desired that no violence should be used towards
him.
Lord Eglinton's seat was about three miles from the place where this
fatal event happened ; and his servants put him into the carriage to convey
him home. In the mean time Campbell's hands were tied behind him ; and
he was conducted to the town of Saltcoats, the place of his former station
as an exciseman.
His lordship, after languishing for ten hours, died ; and Mr. Campbell
was then committed to the jail of Ayr to await his trial.
Upon his being arraigned upon the indictment preferred acainst him,
various arguments were urged in his favour. It was said — " That the
gun went off by accident, and therefore it could be no more than casual
homicide.
" Secondly — That, supposing it had been fired with an intention to kill,
yet the act was altogether justifiable, because of the violent provocation he
had received ; and he was doing no more than defending his life and
property.
" Thirdly — It could not be murder, because it could not be supposed
that Mr. Campbell had any malice against his lordship, and the action
itself was too sudden to admit of deliberation."
The counsel for the prosecution urged in answer, in the first place,
" That it was certain malice was implied, in consequence of Canipbell's
VOL. I. o e
226 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
presenting the gun to his lordship, and telling him that, unless he kept off,
lie would shoot him.
" Secondly — That there was no provocation given by the earl besides
words, and words could not be construed a provocation in law.
" Thirdly — The earl had a right to seize his gun, in virtue of several
acts of parliament, which were the established laws of the land, to which
every subject is obliged to be obedient."
After repeated debates between the lawyers of Scotland, a day was at
length appointed for the trial, which commenced on the 27th of February
1770, before the High Court of Justiciary; and, the jury having found
]Mr. Campbell guilty, he was sentenced to die.
The Lord Justice Clerk, before he pronounced the solemn sentence,
addressed himself to the convict, advising him to make the most devout
preparation for death, as all hopes of pardon would be precluded, from the
nature of his offence.
The prisoner conducted himself throughout the whole proceedings with
the utmost calmness, and took leave of his friends in the evening with great
apparent cheerfulness ; and, retiring to his apartment, he begged the favour
of a visit from them on the following day. In the morning of the 28th of
February 1770, however, he was found dead, hanging to the end of a form
which he had set upright, and a silk handkerchief fastened round his neck.
The following lines were found upon the floor, close to the body : —
" Farewell, vain world ! I've had enough of thee,
And now am careless what thou say'st of me :
Thy smiles I court not, nor thy frowns I fear :
My cares are past ; my heart lies easy here.
What faults they find in me take care, to shun •
And look at home — enough is to be done."
JAMES ATTAWAY AND RICHARD BAILEY.
EXECUTED FOR BURGLARY.
The crime for which these men so justly suffered was committed in a
manner most artful and daring.
About nine o'clock in the evening they went to the house of Thomas Le
Merr, Esq. in Bedford-row, London, a pubhc and genteel street. They
had received information that Mr. Le ]\Ierr was in the country, and on
their knocking at the door, it was opened by a footman, who was alone in
the house, to whom Bailey delivered a letter, saying it was for his master.
Before the servant could answer, they rushed in, shut the street door, and
siabbed him iu the belly with a dagger. They then drew cords from their
pockets, tied the bleeding man's hands behind his back, and dragged him
down stairs into the kitchen, and there bringing the rope about his neck,
and across his face, in such a mamier that it went through his month,
which it kept open, and making it fast behind, thus bound, they force<i
him into a cellar, and bolted him in. In a few minutes one of the villains
returned, asking if he was fast ; and being answered, as well as the poor
man could speak, that he was secure enough, they broke open the pantry,
where the plate-chest was kept, forced the lock, and deliberately packed
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 227
up its contents. In the mean time, however, the wounded man gnawed the
rope in his mouth, and soon liberated himself. lie then forced open the
door which confined him, and got into the area, over which was a skylight,
and, apprehensive that he was bleeding to death, he made an effort, by
climbincr up a pipe, to get through it, and give an alarm. In effecting this
he stuck by the middle, and near his wound, a considerable time, but was
not heard by the thieves, who were busily employed in securing their
plunder. Making a last exertion, he succeeded in raising himself up, and,
dragging the rope after him, he got to the stables behind the house, and called
for help as loud as his almost exhausted strength would permit. Five or
six grooms immediately came to his assistance ; and, learning the cause of
his alarm, they seized the robbers as they were coming out of the house ;
thus fortunately saving the poor fellow's life and Mr. Le Merr's property.
On this evidence the prisoners were subsequently found guilty, the
wounded man being able to appear in court against them, and were executed
at Tyburn, July 4, 1770.
LEVI AV^EIL, ASHER WEIL, JACOB LAZARUS, AND
SOLOMON PORTER.
EXECUTED FOR THE MURDER OF JOHN SLOW.
This daring violation of the law, which long roused the public indigna-
tion against the whole Jewish people, happened in the house of Mrs.
Hutchings, in the King's-road, Chelsea, who was a farmer's widow, left
by her husband in good circumstances, and with three children, two boys
and a girl.
On a Saturday evening, just as the Jewish Sabbath was ended, a numerous
gang of Jews assembled in Chelsea Fields; and having lurked about there
until ten o'clock, at that hour went to the house of Mrs. Hutchings, and
demanded admittance. The family had all retired to rest, with the
exception of Mrs. Hutchings and her two female servants, and being
alarmed by the unseasonable request of the applicants, they proceeded in a
body to know their business. The door was no sooner opened, however,
than a number of fellows, — all of whom had the appearance of Jews, —
rushed in, and seizing the terrified females, threatened them with instant
death in the event of their offering any resistance. Mrs. Hutchings, being
a woman of considerable muscular strength, for a time opposed them ; but
her antagonists having soon overpowered her, they tied her petticoats over
her head, and proceeded to secure the servants. The girls having been
tied back to back, five of the fellows proceeded to ransack the nouse, while
the remainder of the gang remained below to guard the prisoners. Having
visited the rooms occupied by the children of Mrs. Hutchings in turn, the
ruffians proceeded to the apartment in which two men, employed as
labourers on the farm, named John Slow and William Stone, were lying
undisturbed by the outcry which had been raised below. It was soon
determined that these men were likely to prove mischievous, and that they
must be murdered ; and Levi Weil, a Jewish physician, who was one of
the party, and was tlie most sanguinary villain of his gang, aimed a blow
at the breast of Stone, intended for his death, but which only stunned him.
228 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
Slow started up, and the villains cried " Shoot him ! shoot him !" and a
pistol was instantly fired at him, and he fell, exclaiming, " Lord have
mercy on me ! I am murdered !"
They dragged the wounded man out of the room to the head of the
stairs; but in the mean time Stone, recovering his senses, jumped out of
bed, and escaped to the roof of the house, through the window. The
thieves now descended and plundered the house of all the plate they could
discover ; but finding no money, they went to Mrs. Hutchings, and
threatened to murder her if she did not disclose the place of its
concealment. She gave them her watch, and was afterwards compelled to
give up a purse containing 651., with which tliey immediately retired.
Mrs. Hutchings now directly set her female servants at liberty, and having
gone in search of the men, she found Slow, who declared he was dying,
and dropped insensible on the floor. He languished until the following
afternoon, and then died of the wounds which he had received.
It was a considerable time before the perpetrators of this most diabolical
outrage were discovered ; but they were at length given up to justice by
one of their accomplices, named Isaacs, who was a German Jew, and who,
reduced to the greatest necessity, was tempted by the prospect of reward
to impeach his fellows. It then turned out that the gang consisted of
eiglit persons, who were headed by the physician before-mentioned. Dr.
Weil had been educated in a superior manner. He had studied physic in
the university of Leyden, where he was admitted to the degree of doctor
in that faculty ; and, then coming to England, he practised in London,
with no inconsiderable degree of success, and was always known by the
name of Doctor Weil; but so destitute was he of all principle, and
such was the depravity of his heart, that he determined to engage in the
dangerous practice of robbery ; and, having formed this fatal resolution, he
wrote to Amsterdam, to some poor Jews, to come to England, and assist
him in his intended depredations on the public ; and at the same time in-
formed them that in England large sums were to be acquired by the
practice of theft.
The inconsiderate men no sooner received Dr. Weil's letter than they
procured a passport from the English consul, and, embarking in the
Harwich packet-boat, arrived in England.
They lost no time in repairing to London, and, immediately attending
Dr. Weil, he informed them that his plan was, that they should go out in
the day-time, and minutely survey such houses near London as might
probably aftbrd a good booty, and then attack them at night.
At the sessions held at the Old Bailey, in tlie month of December 1771,
Levi Weil, Asher Weil, Marcus Hartagh, Jacob Lazarus, Solomon Porter,
and Lazarus Harry, were indicted for the felony and murder above-
mentioned, when the two of the name of Weil, with Jacob Lazarus and
Solomon Porter, were capitally convicted; while Marcus Hartagh and
Lazarus Harry were acquitted for want of evidence.
These men, as is customary in all cases of murder, when it can be made
convenient to the Court, were tried on a Friday, and on the following day
they were anathematised in the synagogue. As their execution was to
take place on the Monday following, one of the rabbis went to them in the
press-yard of Newgate, and delivered to each of them a Hebrew book ;
but declined attending them to the place of death, nor even prayed witli
them at the time of his visit.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 229
They were attended to Tyburn, the place of execution, by immense
crowds of people, who were anxious to witness the exit of wretches, whose
'jrimes had been so much the object of public notice.
Having prayed together, and sung a hymn in the Hebrew language,
they were launched into eternity, December 9, 1771,
After the bodies had hung the customary time, they were conveyed Lo
Surgeons' Hall to be dissected.
JAMES BOLL AND.
EXECUTED FOR FORGERY.
TuE adventures of this fellow exhibit him to have been a pfi-son of a
most profligate disposition. By means of his employment as a bailiff, he
obtained the custody of great numbers of unfortunate debtors, whom it
became his entire occupation to fleece of any small property which micrht
be left in their possession at the time of their incarceration. Bailifis at the
present day are not much esteemed as persons of respectable character, or
whose mode of life is at all calculated to raise them in the opinions of their
fellows ; but, judging from the case of Bolland, the race appears to have
much improved since the year 1772.
Bolland was the son of a butcher in Whitechapel, and having been
brought up to his father's trade, he opened a shop on his own account,
almost immediately on the termination of his apprenticeship. His ideas of
life, however, did not permit him to pay that attention to his business
which it demanded ; and having spent no small portion of his time and
money in the society of bailiffs, thief-takers, and blacklegs, he at length
found himself tottering on the eve of bankruptcy. To avoid a catastrophe
which might have damaged him in the estimation of his companions, he
now sold off his effects ; and in order to indulge a taste which he
appeared to have imbibed from his recent associations, he procured himsel
to be appointed one of the officers of the sheriff of Surrey, and opened t
" sponging- house," or receptacle for newly-arrested debtors, at the bottoni
of Falcon-court, near St. George's Church, Southwark. The sponging-
houses of the last century, as it may be well supposed, had no better
qualities to recommend them than those of the present day, and that of
Mr. Bolland appeared to outvie its fellows in the wretchedness and poverty
of its equipments. It was, however, speedily inhabited by a number of
wretched debtors, and now came the opportunity for its proprietor to
exercise his power of discrimination between those who were unable to
contribute to his benefit, and those whose purses even yet afforded the
possibility of his squeezing from them a few golden drops. Those whose
money was all spent were not long permitted to remain in his " establish-
ment," but were sent off to the county prison as soon as the discovery of
their poverty was made ; but those who could afford to pay for their
accommodations, and besides to enter with him into the amusements of
cards and dice, were welcomed as honoured visitors, so long as their money
lasted, until, in order to avoid further imposition, they demanded to be
conveyed to prison, or until the exigency of the writs upon which they had
been arrested rendered their removal necessary.
It may be readily imagined that no occasion was allowed by Bolland tu
230 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
slip, on which, either by the exercise of fraud or artifice, he could procure
money from his unfortunate guests ; and situated as he was — the master of
the house, all efforts to oppose his will were of course unavailing so long
as his dupes remained under his roof. But while his frauds at home were
carried on with tlie most daring effrontery, he was no less active abroad,
in endeavf)uring to "• raise the wind." He became a horse-dealer, and a
bill-discounter ; and in both of these professions ample opportunities for
the exercise of all sorts of chicanery were afforded. At length, however,
his name and his infamous practices became so notorious that his business
forsook him — his employers jui^tly imagining that when his conduct was
so villanous, they might be justly reflected upon for encouraging him — and
with his business, the means of meeting his numerous and very heavy
expenses declined. His creditors became clamorous, and a commission of
bankruptcy was sued out by a friend, but not until he had managed to gull
the public to a large extent, and to secrete a very considerable quantity of
valuable effects.
Having been " whitewashed " of his old debts, upon his discharge from
prison he managed once again to enter into business, and having procured
new bondsmen, he was appointed an officer to the sheriff' of Middlesex, and
opened .1 sponging-house in the Savoy. His successes in his new avocation
were by no means so great as those which he had experienced in his late
employment in Surrey ; but he managed to eke out the means of existence
between his house and his successes at play in the various billiard-rooms in
the vicinity of his dwelling.
At length, however, having by his fraudulent schemes involved himself
in almost innumerable difficulties, he determined upon once more "passing
the court," to get rid of his liabilities ; and tlie necessary proceedings were
taken to procure a second commission of bankruptcy. During his sojourn
in the Fleet Prison, whither, like many of his late victims, he was now
obliged to go, he formed acquaintances by no means calculated to improve
his character for respectability, nor to induce him to adopt any new mode
of life. On his discharge, through the instrumentality of some of his
prison friends, he procured himself once again to be appointed a sheriff"s
officer of Middlesex, and he now commenced business in Great Shire Lane,
Fleet-street. If his exertions as a bailiff in the Savoy had failed in pro-
curing for him those returns which his situation might lead him to expect,
he had now no reason to complain of want of patronage. His ac-
quaintance among the "sharp practice" attorneys had been lately increasing,
and he was soon almost fully employed by them. His house was again
rendered the means of procuring for hiin the most extravagant returns for
his outlay on behalf of his prisoners, and his ingenuity and impudence
supplied any deficiency whicli might have before appeared in his income.
One or two instances of the devices to which he had recourse may prove
interesting. Having been employed by. a gentleman to arrest a person
who was his debtor to the amount of three hundred pounds on a bill of
exchange, and who held the situation of captain of an East Indiaman,
BoUand immediately proceeded to make tlie necessary inquiries respecting
his prey. He learned that his vessel was about to sail in the course of a
very few days ; but, determined to be beforehand with him, he caused him
to be immediately arrested and carried to his lock-up house. His employer,
in the mean time, had gone out of town, and therefore looked for no imme-
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR, 231
diate account from the officer ; but the latter having procured the Jeht and
costs from his prisoner, suffered him immediately to depart. Some months
elapsed before the plaintiff in the suit returned to London, and then he
demanded to know what success the bailiff had had in procuring the
payment of the debt ; but he was assured by him that the vessel had sailed
before the writ was lodged in his hands, and that all his efforts to procure
the money had been unavailing. He then tendered a charge of tlie costs
which had been incurred, and the amount having been paid, he walked off.
His cheat was soon destined to be discovered, however ; for the captain
having returned, a writ was lodged in the hands of another officer, by
whom he was a second time arrested. The result may be easily imagined :
BoUand's receipt for the debt and costs, dated eighteen months before, was
produced, and the prisoner was at once set at liberty. Proceedings were
then immediately instituted against our hero, and after a long course of
opposition to the law, through which he imagined that he would not be
followed, he was compelled to refund the money which he had so dis-
honestly obtained.
The following case shows that he did not always come off the winner : —
The custom of putting in sham bail has long been well known ; and
although recent enactments of the legislature have put an end to this
system, founded on perjury and fraud, the " men of straw " who formerly
paraded Westminster Hall, ready to swear that they were worth an)^
amount, and who were easily recognised by the straw which hung out of
their shoes, are yet well remembered. Holland, in the course of his pro-
fessional avocations, had frequent necessity for the use of persons of this
description ; and he had gone so far as to hire two men for the exclusive
use of his establishment, whom he had attired in something like decency,
for the sake of giving his transactions an air of respectability. Having
upon one occasion accompanied his servants to a public -house in Covent
Garden, to regale them after a " good hit," he was surprised to see them
suddenly carried off by two Bow-street runners on a charge of highway-
robbery. At the ensuing Old Bailey Sessions, they were put upon their
trial charged with the offence alleged against ihem, and a verdict of con-
viction having been recorded, they were sentenced to be hanged. Bolland,
in his capacity of sheriff's officer, was compelled to accompany them to
the gallows, and had the mortification of seeing them turned off, wearing
the clothes which he had provided them, and which, by custom, became
the property of the executioner.
Another instance will show how far his villany extended. A Mrs.
Beauclerc was the wife of a captain in the navy, and her husband having
been detained at sea for a period much longer than was expected, she con-
tracted a debt amounting to thirty pounds. The creditor became solicitous
that the money should be repaid ; but Mrs. Beauclerc being devoid of
the means of payment, and having no friend to whom in her strait she
could apply, was at length arrested by Bolland upon a writ which had been
placed in his hands for execution, and conveyed to Great Shire Lane.
Having tasted all the pleasures of a residence in a sponging-house, slie
became anxious in a day or two for her release upon any terms which she
could make ; and, upon her entreaty, Bolland procured bail to be put in
for her on a fee of five guineas being handed over. She had scarcely
232 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
obtained her liberty, however, before she was rendered into custody by her
bail, acting upon the advice of BoUand, who represented that her circum-
stances were such as to render the continuance of their liability in her
behalf exceedingly dangerous. Every post was expected to bring news of
Captain Beauclerc, and with it the means of discharging the debt ; and the
poor woman, terrified at an incarceration in Newgate, with which she was
threatened, was induced to raise ten pounds, in order once more to procure
her liberation upon bail. The money being tendered, her jailor was too
good a judge to permit her to go at large without some further security ;
and he insisted upon her signing a bond to confess judgment, levyable upon
her furniture, as a collateral security. Mrs. Beauclerc was ignorant of the
nature of such an instrument, and readily assented to everything that was
proposed ; and her surprise may be imagined when, on the very day after her
liberation, a writ of execution was put into her house, founded upon the
judgment signed upon her confession, under which all her goods were seized.
Distracted at the prospect of her husband's speedy return, and at his dis-
covery of her destitution, in a state of the wildest desperation she attempted
to set fire to the house which she occupied. Her offence was, from its nature,
immediately discovered, and the unhappy woman was dragged to Newgate
to await her trial. Scarcely had she become an inmate of the jail, the
name of which she had before so much dreaded, when her husband arrived
in London, and was horror-struck at discovering her situation. Every
effort was made by him on her behalf ; but before the trial of his wretched
wife came on, he was suddenly arrested by Bolland, upon a writ sued out
upon an affidavit of debt, falsely sworn at the instance of the officer. His
condition may be easily supposed to have been heart-rending in the
extreme ; and his wife, deprived of the assistance which she might have
obtained had he been at large, was convicted and received sentence of
ieath. The captain, in order as soon as possible to be able to render his
Adfe that comfort which her situation demanded, and to make some exer-
tions in her behalf, procured his liberation, though it was by paying the
debt to which he was sworn to be liable ; and the case of his wife being
represented to the king, she was at length released from confinement, upon
an unconditional pardon which was granted to her.
By these and other artifices, and by the most unblushing efirontery,
Bolland succeeded at length in amassing a sum of two thousand pounds ;
and the office of City-marshal becoming vacant, he determined, if possible,
to become its possessor by way of purchase. The situation, as was then
customary, was put up for sale, and after a spirited bidding, he became the
buyer at a price of two thousand four hundred pounds ; and having paid
the deposit-money, and raised such 2:)ortion of the whole sum as he did not
possess, he only waited the approval of the Court of Aldermen at once to
take upon himself the duties of the office. His character had, however,
became too notorious to permit of his being allowed to assume a situation
of so much importance in the City ; and a message was communicated to
him by the recorder, in which the nature of the grounds of the refusal
were stated. An action was threatened upon the breach of contract, as well
as upon the defamation of his character, conveyed by the message of the
recorder ; but finding that he was likely to gain nothing by an opposition
to the corporation of London, he desisted from any further proceedings,
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 233
and demanded the restitution of the amount of the deposit money. But
liere he was doomed to suffer another disappomtment. The amount handed
over had been attached by the persons, who had become his sureties to the
sheriff, on account of certain liabilities which he had incurred to them under
their bail bonds, and it was detained in order to *wait the decision of a
court of law upon the claim.
Before the proceedings which arose upon the subject, however, had termi-
nated, BoUand was guilty of the offence for which he became liable to trial,
and was convicted and executed. It appears that his crime consisted in
the introduction of a false indorsement upon the back of a bill of exchange,
made by BoUand for the purpose of giving it a fictitious value. A person
named Jesson having discounted a bill for him, they accidentally met at the
George and Vulture Tavern, Cornhill, on the day when it becanif due.
Jesson demanded payment ; but Bolland declared that he was unprejrared
with the. money requisite to take up the instrument, and tendered anotlier
bill for one hundred pounds, accepted by a Mr. Bradshaw, as an equiva-
lent. Jesson, after some demur, consented to take the bill ; and Bolland
indorsed it with his own name. This was exclaimed against by Jesson, on the
ground that it would not be negociable if his name appeared on it ; and he
then took a knife, and, according to Jesson's belief, scratched out the whole
name, while, in reality, he scratched out all except the initial, which he left,
and to which he added the letters " anks," so as to make the name " James
Banks." The bill was then handed back to Jesson ; and on the following
day it was discounted for him by a person named Cardineaux. The latter
subsequently demanded to know who Banks was ; and B')lland informed
him that he was a victualler in the neighbourhood of Rathbone Place, in
an extensive and reputable way of business. Before the bill became due
it was again discounted for Cardineaux by his banker, and Bradshaw, the
acceptor, became bankrupt. Cardineaux, in consequence, applied to
Jesson to take up the bill, and he in turn went to Bolland ; but the latter
positively refused to have anything to do with it, and even went so far as
to deny, with the utmost effrontery, that he had ever seen it. At a subse-
quent meeting between Cardineaux, Jesson, and Bolland, the latter endea-
voured to excuse himself from payment, by alleging that his name did not
appear on the instrument ; but on his being called upon to explain how
Banks's indorsement came upon it, he desired that all further disputes
might subside, and that he would take it up. An investigation, however,
subsequently took place, and Jesson, annoyed at the double fraud which
had been practised upon him, took the advice of counsel as to what should
be done. An opinion was given that an indictment for forgery would lie,
and Bolland was taken into custody ; but then immediately a person, who
^tated his name to be Banks, applied to Cardineaux to take up the bill.
The one hundred pounds were accepted, and the supposed Mr. Banks
obtained a receipt for that amount ; but on his demanding the delivery of
the bill, he was informed that it was detained in order to be produced in
evidence at the trial, after which he should be welcome to it.
The prisoner was indicted at the ensuing Old Bailey sessions, when
proof of the facts which we have detailed having been given, and all efforts
to prove the existence of any such Mr. Banks as had been described having
failed, a verdict of Guilty was returned. Every effort was subsequently
made by the prisoner's counsel, on a motion in arrest of judgment, tc
VOL. I. H n
234 THE NEW NFVGATE CALENDAR.
procure the verdict to be set aside, but in vain, and sentence of death
was passed upon him in the usual form.
On the morning of his execution, the unhappy wretch confessed that he
had been guilty of innumerable sins, but declared that he had no fraudulent
intention in indorsing the bill when he put it oif.
He was hanged at Tyburn on the 18th of March 1772, and his body
was in the evening conveyed to Bunhill Fields, and there buried.
AVILLIAM GRIFFITHS.
EXECUTED FOR HIGHWAY ROBBERY.
The person robbed in this case was the celebrated and unfortunate Dr.
Dodd, whom, a few years afterwards, Fate decreed to be hanged at the
very spot where Griffiths suffered.
William Griffiths was a native of Shropshire, and followed the business of
husbandry till he had attained his eighteenth year, when he engaged in
a naval life, and remained near three years in the East Indies. The ship
was paid off on his return to England ; and our \ero receiving a consider-
able sum for wages, spent his money, as sailors generally do, in no very
reputable company, at public-houses in Wapping and adjacent parts.
Being now reduced to poverty, he was persuaded by two fellows named
David Evans and Timothy Johnson to join them in the commission of
highway robberies. Their efforts were attended with small success, and
Griffiths's reign was soon terminated. It appears that the Rev. Dr. Dodd
and his lady were returning from a visit they had been making to a gentle-
man at St. Albans, but were detained on the way at Barnet, because a
post-chaise could not be immediately procured. Night was hastily approach-
ing when they left Barnet ; but they proceeded unmolested until they
came near the turnpike at the extremity of Tottenham-Court-Road, when
three men called to the driver of the carriage, and threatened his instant
destruction if he did not stop. The postboy did not hesitate to obey the
summons ; but no sooner was the carriage stopped than a pistol was fired,
the ball from which went through the front glass of the chaise, but did not
take any effect to the injury of the parties in it. Griffiths then imme-
diately opened the door of the chaise ; on which the doctor begged him to
behave with civility, on account of the presence of the lady. He delivered
his purse, which contained only two guineas, and a bill of exchange, and
also gave the robber some loose silver. Griffiths, having received the booty,
decamped with the utmost precipitation ; but Dr. Dodd lost no time in
repairing to Sir John Fielding's office, where he and his lady gave so full
a description of the person of the principal robber, that he was immediately
apprehended.
At the trial, the doctor declared that he had only come forward on
account of the pistol having been fired, but refused to swear to the person
of the prisoner. His lady, however, was more positive in her evidence ;
and no doubt being left as to his identity, he was found guilty and received
sentence of death.
He afterwards confessed the crimes of which he had been guilty, and
was executed on the 20th of January 1773, apparently sincerely penitent
for his offences.
XnE SEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 235
JOHN LEONARD.
EXECUTED FOR A RAPE.
The circumstances of this case are marked by peculiar atrocity. It
appears that a man named Vere, a sheriff's officer, having put an execution
into a house of Mr. Brailsford, in Petty France, "Westminster, he placed
Leonard, Graves, and Gay, three of his followers, in possession.
A young- woman named Boss resided in an apartment on the second
floor of the house, and on the 15th June, 1773, the family of Mr. Brailsford
having all gone out in search of the means of getting rid of their unwelcome
visitants, she was left alone in the house with the three officers. She was
at work in her own room, when, about mid-day, Leonard opened the
door, and began in a familiar manner to speak to her. Terror for a while
deprived her of utterance ; but finding him proceed to take those liberties
which female virtue can never suffer, she resisted, screamed out, seized the
villain by the throat, struggled until she was exhausted, and then sank
down, deprived of reason. In this situation her assailant used her in the
way that constituted the offtnce for which he was justly executed.
A neighbour hearing the cries of the distressed female, and suspecting
some foul deed, knocked at the street-door, and inquired the cause of the
noise ; to which Leonard, opening the window, replied that it was only a
drunken woman : and the inquirer retired.
The three villains, Leonard, Graves, and Gay, were afterwards indicted
for this cruel outrage : Leonard as the principal, and the others as acces-
sories to the fact ; and upon their trial they were all found guilty. Graves
and Gay were burned in the hand and imj^risoned ; but sentence of death
was immediately passed upon Leonard.
Although convicted upon the clearest evidence, this obdurate man denied
that he was guilty ; and on the Sunday before he suffered, he received the
sacrament from the hands of the Rev. Mr. Temple, and then, in the most
solemn manner, declared to that gentleman that he was entirely innocent
of the fact for which he was to die ; that he had been repeatedly intimate
with Miss Bos?:, with her own consent : and that all the reason he could
conjecture for her prosecuting liim was, that he had communicated this
matter to Graves, one of the other follow^ers, who availed himself of the
secret, and found means to get into the young lady's room, and who really
perpetrated the fact with which she had falsely accused him.
In this story he persisted all the time he remained in Newgate ; but Mr.
Temple, suspecting his veracity, delivered a paper to Mr. Toll, another
gentleman who usually administered spiritual comfort to the malefactors in
their last moments, in which he requested him to ask Leonard about those
two assertions before he was turned off.
This request IMr. Toll and his colleague punctually complied with, and
the unhappy man then acknowledged that he had taken the sacrament to
an absolute falsehood ; that there was not a word of truth in his impeach-
ing Miss Boss, but that he alone abused her ; that he was taught in
Newgate to believe that the falsehood might do him service ; that he
found his mistake too late, and all the atonement he could make was to
acknowledge the truth before he left tl.e world, and to beg pardon of God
for having acted in so atrocious a manner.
He was executed on the lith August, 1773, at Tyburn.
236 THK NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
SAMUEL MALE.
EXECUTED FOR ROBBERY.
The short life of this culprit was remarkable for producing two sur-
prising instances of the uncertainty of identity.
On the 4th of September, 1772, he was arraigned at the bar of the Old
Bailey for a robbery upon a Mrs. Ryan.
The prosecutrix and other witnesses swore positively that the prisoner
committed the robbery on the 17th of June then last past.
The court consequently supposed conviction would follow ; but being
called on for his defence, he said he was innocent, and that tlie books of
the court would prove where he was on the day of the robbery.
Reference was immediately made to the records ; and strange yet true
to relate, tliat, on the very day and hour sworn to, Male was actually on
his trial at the bar where he then stood, for another robbery, when he was
unfortunate enough to have been mistaken for another person. He was
consequently acquitted ; but the force of example did not deter him from
the commission of crime, and although he was discharged from prison
without reproach, he came out a determined thief.
His career of villany was soon ended ; for in six months afterwards we
find him expiating his crimes at the gallows. He was charged with a real
robbery, committed by him on the person of Mrs. Grignion, and being
unable again to prove an alibi, as he had hitherto done, he was found
guilty, and was executed at Tyburn on the 25th of JMarch, 1773.
WILLIAM FARMERY.
EXECUTED FOR THE MURDER OF HIS MOTHER.
"While we sketch the shocking crime of this monster, we have some
consolation in observing that, in our long researches into the baseness of
mankind, he is the first we have met with, who, with long-lurking malice,
shed the blood of his mother.
A subject so strangely liorrid and unnatural we shall dismiss by a bare
recital of the shocking circumstance.
It appears that among other undutiful acts, he had one morning given
offence to his parent, for which he was justly reproached, whereupon he
went out of her house, took the knife from his jiocket, and deliberately
whetted it till quite sharp. Tlien returning with tlie murderous instrument
in his hand, he found his unfortunate mother in the act of making his own
bed.
AVithout uttering a word, he threw her down, and as a butcher kills a
sheep, he stuck her in the tliroat, and left her weltering in her blood, of
which wound she died.
On his examination he confessed the fact, and said that he had deter-
mined upon his mother's death three years before ; for tliat he had treasured
up malice against her since slie had corrected him for some trifling fault
when a little boy
He was executed at Lincoln, where his ofi'ence was committed, on the
5th of August, 1775.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR 237
AMOS MERRITT.
EXECUTED FOR BURGLARY.
The case of this prisoner is a fit successor to that of Samuel Male, which
has been just related. His execution arose out of the following circumstances.
On the lyth August, 1 774, Patrick ]Maden, convicted of afoot-robbery on the
highway, and William Waine and Levi Barnet for burglary, were carried to
Tyburn for execution, pursuant to their sentence. When the cart was
drawn under the gallows, a man among the crowd of spectators called out
for the others to make way for him, as he had something to communicate
to the sheriff respecting one of the prisoners. This being effected, the
man, who proved to be Amos Merritt, addressed Mr. Reynolds, the under-
sheriff, and declared that Patrick Maden was innocent of the crime for
which he was about to suffer. Mr. Reynolds desired he would look upon
tlie prisoner, and speak aloud what he had represented to him. He did
so, and declared that he was not guilty ; but declined accusing himself.
The sheriffs, on hearing this declaration, despatched Mr. Reynolds with the
information to the secretary of state, and to request his further orders ; and
a respite being obtained for Maden, he was carried back to Newgate, amid
the acclamations of the people.
Alerritt was then taken into custody, and at the public office in Bow-
street, before Mr. Justice Addington, confessed that he himself was the
person who had committed the robbery of which Maden had been con-
victed, and the last-named prisoner was then pardoned.
Though no doubt remained of Merritt's guilt, yet, as no proof could be
adduced to that efi"ect, he for a while escaped justice.
He had been guilty of many robberies, the particulars of which are not
interesting, and we shall therefore come to that for which he suffered.
At the sessions held at the Old Bailey in the month of December 1774,
Amos Merritt was indicted for feloniously breaking and entering the
dwelling-house of Edward EUicott, early in the morning of the 26th of
October, and stealing from it a quantity of plate, a gold watch, and other
valuable articles, to a large amount.
]Mr. Ellicott deposed that he lived in Hornsey-lane, near Highgate ,
that he was awakened by his wife, who inquired what noise was in the
house ; and ringing the bell, both of them jumped out of bed. The first
words they then heard were, " Come up directly ;" and then some person
said, " D — n your bloods, we will murder every soul in the house !" Mrs.
Ellicott said, " Lord bless me, the door is open !" and running to the door,
pushed it close. Mr. Ellicott gave immediate assistance ; and a person
who was without, who he believed from his voice was the prisoner, said,
" D — n you, if you do not open the door, I will murder every one of you !"
The rest of the evidence was to the following effect : — The villains
attempted to force open the door, putting a hanger with a scabbard between
that and the post ; but Mr. Ellicott, who was a powerful man, kept them
out by mere strength, and having fastened the door with a drop bolt, which
went into the flooring, he ran to the window, and called out " Thieves !"
In the mean time Sirs. Ellicott, by perpetual ringing of the bell, had
alarmed the servants, who ran into tlie road after the thieves, who had by
this time got off" with the property.
238 THE ^EW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
Notice having been given at Sir John Fielding's, jMerritt and his accom-
plices were taken into custody on suspicion, and after an examination at
Bow-street were committed to Xevvgate.
At the trial the evidence was deemed so satisfactory that the jury did
not hesitate to find Merritt guilty ; in consequence of which he received
sentence of death, and was executed at Tyburn on the 18th of January,
1775, within six months of the period of his saving the unfortunate Madcu
from an untimely and ignominious fate.
Couufcted with the two cases just detaik-d, we may relate an anecdote
of a very remarkable instance of per^onal siniiiitude which happened at
New York, in North America, in the year 1804.
A man was indicted for bigamy under the name of James Hoag. He
was met in a distant part of the country by some friends of his supposed
first wife, and apprehended. The prisoner denied the charge, and said his
name was Thomas Parker. On the trial, Mrs. Hoag, her relations, and
many other credible witnesses, swore that he was James Hoag, and the
former swore positively that he was her husband. On the other side, an
equal number of witnesses, equally respectable, swore that the prisoner was
Thomas Parker; and Mrs. Parker appeared, and claimed him as her
husband. The first witnesses were again called by the Court, and they not
only aoain deposed to him, but swore that by stature, shape, gesture,
complexion, looks, voice, and speech, he was James Hoag. They even
described a particular scar on his forehead, by which he could be known.
On turnino- back the hair, the scar appeared. The others, in return, swore
that he had lived among them, worked with them, and was in their com-
pany on the very day of his alleged marriage with ]Mrs. Hoag. Here the
scales of testimony were balanced, for the jury knew not to which party to
sive credit. Mrs. Hoag, anxious to gain back her husband, declared he had
a certain more particular mark on the sole of his foot. Mrs. Parker avowed
that her husband had no such mark ; and the man was ordered to pull otf
his shoes and stockings. His feet were examined, and no mark appeared.
The ladies now contended for the man, and Mrs. Hoag vowed that she
had lost her husband, and she would have him ; but during this strife, a
justice of the peace from the place where the prisoner was apprehended
entered the Court, and turned the scale in his favour. His worship swore
him to be Thomas Parker ; that he had known, and occasionally employed
him, from his infancy ; whereupon 3Irs. Parker embraced and carried oS
her husband in triumph, by the verdict of tlie jury.
The following anecdote was related by ]Mr. Baron Garrow upon the
trial of a prisoner, whose identity was questionable, on the Oxford Circuit.
The learned judge was in the course of summing up the case to the jury,
when he stated that a few years before, a prisoner was on his trial before
him, upon a charge of highway robbery. His person was identified posi-
tively by the prosecutor, who even went so far as to say that lie now wore
the same clothes in which he had been attired on the occasion on which
the robbery was crmmitted ; and the jury were on the point of being dis-
missed to the consideration of their verdict, when suddenly shouts were
heard in the yard attached to the Court-house ; — cries of '' Make way —
make way," were distinguished ; — and a man on horseback, whose appear-
ance denoted the rapidity with which he had ridden, rushed in among the
people congregated to await the result of the trial, and, throwing himscU
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 239
from his horse, which was covered with foani, made his way with the
greatest expedition to the entrance of the Court. The outcry which was
raised had stopped the learned judge in his concluding ohservations, and
before he could resume his address to the jury, the man, booted and spurred,
and covered with mud, called upon him to '■' stop the case, for that he had
ridden fifty miles to save the life of a fellow-creature — the prisoner at the
baj.\" His lordship and the Court were astonished at the interruption, and
called upon the stranger to explain his conduct. His answer was that he
knew that the prisoner could not be guilty of the offence imputed to him ;
and he called upon the prosecutor of the indictment to say whether, after
having seen him^ he could still swear that the prisoner was the offender.
The prosecutor again entered the witness-box, and surveyed the stranger
from head to foot. He was dressed in a manner precisely similar to that
in which the prisoner was attired — a green coat with brass buttons, drab
breeches, and top-boots ; — their countenances were so nearly alike in style,
that from the transient view he had had of the robber, he was unable to
distinguisli which was the real thief. The Court were unwilling to suffer
a person who was really innocent to be convicted, and proceeded to make
inquiries of the stranger as to his reasons for interrupting the trial, and as
to his knowledge of the circumstances of the robbery. Upon the former
point, the only explanation which could be obtained from him was, that he
was perfectly satisfied that the prisoner was innocent ; upon the latter he
declined to answer any queries, insinuating that, situated as he was, the
Court would not compel him to criminate himself. The prisoner now
reiterated the protestations of innocence which he had before made ; and
the prosecutor, being strictly examined by the Court, declared that he was
so confused by the similarity which existed between the prisoner and the
stranger, that he was unable to swear that the former was actually the
thief; and that his impression now was, that the latter was the real
oflender. Under these circumstances, it was left to the jury to say, whether
they could with safety declare the prisoner to be guilty ; and a verdict of
acquittal was in consequence returned, to the apparent satisfaction of the
Court. It now became the duty of the judge to determine what further
proceedings should betaken. A robbery, there was no doubt, had been
committed, and its commission lay between the person who had just been
acquitted and the stranger. The former must be presumed to be not
guilty, because the jury had declared him to be so ; and a bill of indict-
ment was therefore directed to be preferred against the latter, who was
taken into custody. The same evidence which had before been given was
now repeated, and a true bill was returned. The trial came on in the
course of the ensuing day, and a fresh jury being impanelled, the new
])risoner was put upon his defence. It was a simple and plain one; " he
was not guilty. The prosecutor had sworn positively to the person of the
prisoner, who had been tried on the previous day, and could he now be
permitted so to alter his testimony, as to procure the conviction of another ?
He had before declared that he could not distinguish the real offender, and
what better opportunity had been since afforded him ? Besides, his
evidence now went only to his ' belief ' as to the identity of the person
charged : and surely if the jury had before acquitted a prisoner to whom
he had sworn positively, they would not now convict, when his testimony
was qualified." This reasoning was too much for the jury ; the prisoner
240
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
had made no confession of his own guilt, and he was declared not guilty.
The sequel was soon discovered ; the two men were brothers : the first
prisoner was the guilty party, and the whole " scene" got up by ihe
stranger was a mere fabrication, invented for the purpose of gulling the
Court and jury. No proceedings could be taken against either party ; for
altliough the Court hadi been imposed upon, the imposition was backed
by no perjury, and the two thieves — for so they turned out — escaped
unpunished.
Another instance of remarkable imposition being practised upon the
Court, occurred subsequently at York. The case of a person who was
cliarged with an extensive robbery on the highway, had attracted consi-
derable attention. The prisoner, when apprehended, was attired in the
habit of a working man ; but the prosecutor, whose evidence as to his
identity was positive, swore that when the robbery was committed he was
well dressed, and mounted. The trial came on at the York assizes, and the
Court was crowded with persons. Upon the evening preceding the day on
which the case was fixed for trial, a gentleman drove up to one of the principal
inns of the city in a travelling chariot-, and requested to be accommodated
with a bed. A handsome supper was ordered, and the stranger retired to
rest. In the morning breakfast was served, and the landlord was sent for.
The gentleman said that he was unacquainted with thetovra, and found that
he was a day too early for the business upon which he had come to York ;
and he therefore desired to know whether there were any amusements goinu;
on, with which he could entertain himself until dinner-time. Tlie castle, the
minster, and various other curiosities were alluded to, in which he appeared
to take no interest ; and the landlord at length mentioned that the assizes
were on, and suggested that he might probably derive some entertainment
from listening to the trials ; and he stated that a remarkable case of highway
robbery was fixed for trial on that morning, and had by that time probably
commenced. Some curiosity on this point was expressed ; and the landlord,
conducting his guest to the Court-house, obtained for him a seat upon the
bench, upon assuring the high sheriff of his being a person of great apparent
respectability, which the landlord had good reason to believe, from his having
seen him with a bundle of notes in his possession of no inconsiderable size,
which he observed that he had placed in his trunk with his pocket-book on
his quitting the inn. The case of highway robbery, as the landlord suggested,
had already commenced ; the prisoner appeared to be a poor man, and was
standing at the bar, with his face buried in his handkerchief, apparently
deeply affected by the situation in which he was placed, and almost uncon-
scious of what was passing around him. The trial now approached its
termination ; the evidence for the prosecution was completed, and the
learned judge called on the prisoner for his defence. He raised himself
languidly from the place where he had been resting, and assured the jurj'
that he was innocent, when, suddenly starting, he exclaimed passionately,
" There, there, my lord, there is a gentleman seated on your lordship's
bench who can prove that I am not guilty !" All eyes were turned to the
person to whom the prisoner's finger, in support of his declaration, was
pointed ; and the stranger was found to be the object of the remark. He
expressed great surprise at being thus called upon, and declared that he
was at a loss to know how tlie prisoner could appeal to him, for tliat he
had no immediate recollection that he had ever seen him before. The
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 241
learned jiulgo demanded that tlie prisoner should explain himself ; and he
then stated that on the very day named in the indictment, and by the
Tvitnesses, as that on which the robbery had been committed, he was at
Dover, and had conveyed the gentleman's luggage in a wheelbarrow from
the Ship Inn to the steam-packet, in which he was about to start for
Calais. The gentleman, in answer to the questions put to him, said that he
certainly had been at Dover about the time mentioned, and that he had
lodged at the Ship Inn, and had gone from thence by steam to Calais. He
remembered too that a man had carried his trunks as the prisoner had
described ; but that altnough he now had some distant recollection of the
features of the man at the bar, he was unable to recognize him as the
person he had employed ; and he could not besides swear to the date of the
transaction. The court inquired whether he was in the habit of making
memoranda of his proceedings, and whether, by referring to any documents,
he should be able to give any more decided information upon the subject ?
He ansvt'ered, that being engaged in a large mercantile business it was
certainly his custom to make notes in his pocket-book, but that the book
was at his inn, locked in his trunk. • The court said that in such a case it
was desirable that the most minute inspection should take place, and
desired that the gentleman should go for his book. The latter was
unwilling to take this trouble, but would give his keys to the officer of the
court, who might, in the presence of his landlord, open his trunk and
bring the book to the court. Messengers were in consequence despatched,
with directions to make further inquiries of the landlord as to the stranger ;
and in the meantime the prisoner proceeded to ask him questions, remind-
ing him of certain occurrences which had taken place on the day in question
on their way from the inn to the quay, and more especially that the packet
was late in starting. To most of these the gentleman assented, and the
pocket-book being now arrived he referred to it, and declared that the date
mentioned was the very day on which he had quitted Dover as described ;
and from all the circumstances which the prisoner had detailed, he was
decidedly of opinion that he was the person whom he had employed. The
circumstances attending the arrival and sojourn of the stranger at the inn,
as detailed by the landlord, who had come into court, were now whispered
to the judge; and the gentleman having given his name, and stated himself
to be connected with a most respectable banking firm in the city of
London, the learned judge summed up the case, commenting upon the very
remarkable coincidence which had occurred ; and the jury, giving full
credit to the testimony of the stranger, at once returned a verdict of not
guilty in favour of the prisoner. This decision appeared to give perfect
satisfaction to the court, and the prisoner was ordered to be immediately
discharged. The stranger was complimented by the judge upon the essen-
tial service which he had been the means of rendering to a fellow creature,
and left the court, declaring his happiness at his having been able to give
such testimony. Within a fortnight afterwards, the late prisoner and his
friend, the London merchant, were lodged in York Castle, charged with a
most daring act of housebreaking, in which they had been concerned. The
notes which the latter had sported at the inn were found to be drawn upon
the "Bank of Fashion" instead of upon the "Bank of England;" and
upon the prisoners being tried at the ensuing assizes, they wore found
guilty, and their lives were justly forfeited to the laws of their country
VOL. I. II
^42 T.HE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAK.
JOHN RANN, alias SIXTEEN STRINGED JACK.
EXECUTED FOR HIGHWAY ROBBERY.
The name of this criminal will be immediately recollected as one which
has attained no small share of notoriety. He was born at a village a few
miles from Bath, of poor parents ; and during the greater part of his youth
he obtained a living by pursuing the business of a costermonger. At the
age of twelve years he was hired by a lady of distinction, whom he accom-
panied to London ; and subsequently being employed in lier stables, he
obtained some knowledge of horses, and having served in the more humble
capacity of post-boy at an inn, he was at length taken into the service of a
gentleman of fortune, in Portman-square, as coachman. It was at this period
that he dressed in the manner which gave rise to his appellation of Sixteen-
stringed Jack, by wearing breeches with eight strings on each knee ; but after
having been employed by several noblemen he lost his character, and
turned pickpocket, in company with three fellows named Jones, Clayton,
and College, the latter of whom, a mere boy, obtained the name of Eight-
stringed Jack.
The first appearance which our hero appears to have made at the bar of
any Court of Justice was at the sessions held at the Old Bailey in April,
1774, when, with Clayton and one Shepherd, he was tried for robbing Mr.
William Somers on the highway, and acquitted for want of evidence. They
were again tried for robbing Mr. Langford, but acquitted for the same
reason.
He was soon destined to be again in custody, however, and on the 30th
of May following, he was charged with robbing John Devall, Esq. near
the nine-mile stone on the Hounslow road, of his watch and money. It
appeared that he had given the watch to a young woman with whom he
lived, named Roche, who had delivered it to Catherine Smith, by whom it
was offered in pledge to Mr. Hallam a pawnbroker, who, suspecting it was
not honestly obtained, caused the parties to be taken into custody. Roche
was now charged with receiving the watch, knowing it to have been stolen ;
and Smith, being sworn, deposed tliat on the day Mr. Devall was robbed,
Roche told her that " she expected Rann to bring her some money in the
evening ;" that he accordingly came about ten at night, and having retired
some time with Roche, she, on her return, owned that she had received a
watch and five guineas from him, which he said he had taken from a gen-
tleman on the highway ; and that she. Smith, carried the watch to pawn
to Mr. Hallam at the request of Roche. Upon this charge the prisoner
Rann was again sent to Newgate ; but on his trial in July 1774, he was
acquitted. On his appearing at the bar, he was dressed in a manner above
his style of life and his circumstances. He had a bundle of flowers in the
breast of his coat almost as large as a broom ; and his irons were tied up
with a number of blue ribands.
Two or three days after this acquittal Rann engaged to sup with a girl
at her lodgings in Bow Street ; but not being punctual to his appointment,
the woman went to bed, and her paramour being unable to obtain admit-
tance by the door, proceeded to effect an entrance through tlie window ;
and had nearly accomplished his purpose, when a watchman interrupte<l
II
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 243
Ilim, and took him into custody. He was charged at Bow-street on the
27tli of July with this alleged burglarious attempt ; but the "young luiy'
appearing, declared the prisoner could have had no felonious intent, for
that so far from her opposing his entry, had she been awake, she would
instantly have admitted him ; and besides that he was quite welcome
to share everything that she possessed, even to her bed. Upon this decla-
ration, the prisoner was dismissed, with a caution to adopt a less dangerous
method of pursuing his amours.
After this it seems that the proceedings of our hero became pretty
notorious, and he took no trouble either to conceal or disguise his person or
his acts. He did not hesitate to proclaim himself as " Sixteen-stringed Jack,
the famous highwayman," and to appear at public places attired in a
peculiar manner so as to excite observation and attention. It does not
appear that his attacks were marked by any great degree of atrocity ; and
the celebrity which he obtained was rather of his own seeking. A short
time before he was convicted of the offence which cost him his life, hf
attended a public execution at Tyburn, and getting in the ring formed by tlw
constables round the gallows, desired that he might be permitted to stand
there, " for," said he, " perhaps it is very proper that I should be a specta-
tor on this occasion."
On the 26th of September, 1774, he went with William Collier on the
Uxbridge-road, with a view to commit robberies on the highway; and
being apprehended on the Wednesday following, they were examined at
the public office in Bow-street on the following charge. Dr. William Bell,
chaplain to the Princess Amelia, deposed that between three and four
o'clock in the afternoon of Monday, the 26th of September, as he was
riding near Ealing, he observed two men of rather mean appearance, who
rode past him ; and that he remarked they had suspicious looks ; yet
neitner at that time, nor for some little time afterwards, had he any idea
of being robbed : that soon afterwards one of them, whom he believed to
be Rann, crossed the head of his horse, and demanding his money, sai'1,
" Give it to me, and take no notice, or I'll blow your brains out." On this
the doctor gave him one shilling and sixpence, which was all the silver he
had, and a common watch in a tortoise-shell case.
It further appeared that, on the night of the robbery, Rann's companion
Eleanor Roche, and her maid-servani. Christian Stewart, went to the shop
of Mr. Cordy, a pawnbroker in Oxiord-road, to pledge the watch, but that
he stopped it, and found out its owner by applying to Mr. Grignon, its
maker, in Russell-street, Covent- garden ; and evidence was also adduced
as to the identity of Rann, who was proved to have been seen at Acton
within twenty minutes of the time of the robbery being committed. The
prisoners were thereupon sent to Newgate to take their trials ; and Roche
and Stewart being also apprehended, were indicted as accessaries after
the fact.
The evidence given on the trial, was in substance the same as that which
had been adduced at Bow-street ; but some favourable circumstances
appearing in behalf of Collier, he was recommended to mercy, and after-
wards respited during the king's pleasure. Miss Roche was sentenced to
be transported for fourteen years ; her servant was acquitted ; and Rann
was left for execution.
When Rann was brought down to take his trial he was dressed in a
244 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
new suit of pea-green clothes ; his hat was bound round with silver
strings ; he wore a ruffled shirt, and his behaviour evinced the utmost
unconcern. Upon hearing the verdict of the jury, which consigned him
ko death, he endeavoured to force a smile, but the attempt was a failure,
and it was evident that the confidence which he had before exhibited, now
forsook him. He had been so certain of acquittal, that he had ordered a
supper to be provided on the occasion ; but his anticipations of pleasure
were quickly changed into the reality of sorrow. After conviction, his
behaviour was for a time unfitted for the melancholy condition in which he
was placed. On Sunday, the 23d of October, he had seven girls to dine
with him, and with their mirth endeavoured to shake oif the heaviness
which beset him, but the warrant for his execution soon after arriving, he
became more sensible of his awful situation, and began to prepare for the
sad fate which awaited him. At his execution, he behaved with decent
resignation, and surveyed the gallows with an eye of confidence. He was
executed on the 30th of November, 1774 ; and ha^■ing hung the usual
time, his body was delivered over to his friends for interment.
ROBERT AND DANIEL PERREAU.
EXECUTED FOR FORGERY.
The circumstances of the cases of these prisoners are of a very remark-
able description. It appears that the accused persons were twin brothers,
and were so much alike that it was with difficulty that the}^ were known
apart. Robert Perreau carried on business in Golden-square as an
apothecary, and was in great practice ; while his brotlier lived in a style
of considerable fashion, a Mrs. Margaret Caroline Rudd living with him
as his wife.
At the sessions held at the Old Bailey in June 1775, Robert Perreau
was indicted for forging a bond for the payment of 7,500/. in the name of
Wdliam Adair, Esq (then a great government contractor), and also for
feloniously uttering and publishing the said bond, knowing it to be forged,
with intent to defraud Messrs. Robert and Henry Drummond, bankers.
From the evidence which was adduced at the trial, it appeared that on
the 10th of March, 1775, the prisoner under trial, whose character up to
that time had been considered unimpeachable, went to the house of ^Messrs.
Dinimmond, and seeing Mr. Henry Drummond, one of the partners, said
that he had been making a pu..chase of an estate in Norfolk or Suftolk, for
vrhich he was to give 12,000/., but that he had not sufficient cash to pay
the whole purchase-money. That he had a bond, however, which Mi-.
Adair had given to his brother Daniel, for 7,500/., upon which he desired
to raise a sum of 5000/., out of which he was willing to pay 1,400/.,
which he had already borrowed of the firm.
Mr. Drummond, on the production of the bond, had no sooner looked at
the signature than he doubted its authenticity, and very politely asked the
prisoner if he had seen 3Ir. Adair sign it. The latter said he had not, but
that he had no doubt that it was authentic, from the nature of the con-
nexion that subsisted between Mrs. Rudd, who was known to live witii
Daniel, and that gentleman ; a suggestion having previously been thrown
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 245
lut that she was his natural daughter. Mr, Drummond, liowever, declined
advancinsj any money without the sanction of his brother, and he desired
Perreau to leave the bond, saying that it should either be returned on the
next day, or the money produced. The prisoner made no scruple to obey
this suggestion, and he retired, promising to call again the next day.
In the interim, Mr. Drummond examined the bond with greater atten-
tion ; and Mr. Stephens, secretary of the Admiralty, happening to call,
his opinion was demanded, when, comparing the signature to the bond with
letters which he had lately received from Mr. Adair, he was firmly con-
vinced that it was forged. When Perreau came on the following day, Mr.
Drummond spoke more freely than he had done before, and told him that
lie imagined he had been imposed on ; but begged, that to remove all
doubt, he would go with him to Mr. Adair, and get that gentleman to
acknowledge tlie validity of the bond, on which the money would be
advanced. This was immediately acceded to ; and on Mr. Adair seeing
the document, he at once declared that the signature was a forgery. The
prisoner smiled incredulously, and said that he jested ; but Mr. Adair
remarked that it was no jesting matter, and that it lay on him to clear up
the affair. On this he went away, requesting to have the bond, in order
to make the necessary inquiries — a request which was refused ; and persons
being employed to watch him, it was found that immediately on his arrival
at his house, he and his brother and Mrs. Rudd got into a coach, carrying
with them all the valuables which they could collect, with a design to
make their escape. They were, however, stopped, and taken into custody,
and being conveyed to Sir John Fielding's, at Bow-street, they there
underwent an examination, and upon the evidence adduced, were committed
to prison. Other charges were subsequently brought against them by Sir
Thomas Frankland^ from whom they had obtained two sums of 5000^. and
4000/. on similar forged bondg, as well as 4000/. which they had paid
when the amount became due ; and by Dr. Brooke, who alleged that they
had obtained from him 1500/. in bonds of the Ayr bank, upon the security
of a forged bond for 3100/. ; and Mrs. Rudd was then admitted as
evidence for the Crown. Her deposition then was, that she was the
daughter of a nobleman in Scotland ; that, when young, she married an
officer in the army named Rudd, against the consent of her friends ; that
her fortune was considerable ; that on a disagreement with her husband,
they resolved to part ; that she made a reserve of money, jewels, and
effects, to the amount of thirteen thousand pounds, all of which slie gave to
Daniel Perreau, whom she said she loved with the tenderness of a wife ;
that she had three children by him ; that he had returned her kindness
in every respect till lately, when, having been unfortunate in gaming in the
alley, he had become uneasy, peevish, and much altered to her ; that he
cruelly constrained her to sign the bond now in question, by holding a
knife to her throat, and swearing that he would murder her if she did not
comply ; that, being struck with remorse, she had acquainted Mr. Adair
with what she had done ; and that she was now willing to declare everj
transaction with which she was acquainted, whenever she should be called
upon by law so to do.
Upon the cross-examination of Mr. Drummond, however, he swore that
Mrs. Rudd on her being first apprehended, took the whole on herself, and
acknowledged that she had forged the bonds ; that she begged tliem " for
246 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
God's sake to have mercy on an innocent man," and that she said dd
injury was intended to any person, and that all would be paid ; and that
she acknowledged delivering the bond to the prisoner. They then enter-
tained an opinion that the prisoner was her dupe ; and Mr. Robert
Drummond having expressed a notion that she could not have forged a
handwritinff so dissimilar from that of a woman as Mr. Adair's, she imme-
diately, in order to satisfy them of the truth of what she said, wrote the
name " William Adair " on a paper exactly like the signature which
appeared attached to the bond,
]\Ir. Watson, a money-scrivener, also deposed, that he had filled up the
bonds at the desire of one of the bi'others, and in pursuance of instructions
received from him ; but he hesitated to fix on either, on account of their
great personal resemblance ; and being pressed to make a positive declara-
tion, he fixed on Daniel as his employer.
The case for the prosecution being concluded, the prisoner entered upon
his defence. In a long and ingenious speech, which he addressed to the
jury, he strove hard to prove that he was the victun of the artifices of Mrs,
Rudd.
He said that she was constantly conversing about the influence she
had over Mr, W. Adair ; and that Mr. Adair had, by his interest with the
kinor, obtained the promise of a baronetage for Daniel Perreau, and was
about procuring him a seat in parliament. That ]Mr. Adair had promised
to open a bank, and take the brothers Perreau into partnership with him.
That the prisoner received many letters signed '^ William Adair," which
he had no doubt came from that gentleman, in which were promises of
giving them a considerable part of his fortune during his life ; and that he
was to allow Daniel Perreau two thousand four hundred pounds a year
for his household expenses, and six hundred pounds a year for Mrs. Rudd's
pin-money. That Mr. Daniel Perreau purchased a house in Harley-street
for four thousand pounds, which money Mr. AVilliam Adair was to give
them. That when Daniel Perreau was pressed by the person of whom he
bought the house for the money, the prisoner understood that they applied
to Mr. William Adair, and that his answer was, that he had lent the king
seventy thousand pounds, and had pui'chased a house in Pall Mall at seven
thousand pounds, in which to carry on the banking business, and therefore
could not spare the four thousand pounds at that time.
He declared that all attempts at personal communication with Mr.
Adair were strenuously opposed by Mrs. Rudd as being Hkely to destroy
the eflects of her exertions on his behalf, and contended that his conduct
throughout the whole transaction with Mr. Drummond, showed that he
was innocent of any guilty intention, and that he firmly believed that he
was acting honestly and justly.
He then proceeded to call the following witnesses, whose evidence we
shall give in the most concise manner : —
George Kinder deposed that Mrs. Perreau (the only name by which he
knew 3Irs. Rudd) told him " that she was a near relation of Mr. James
Adair ; that he looked upon her as his child, had promised to make her
fortune, and with tliat view had recommended her to Mr. William Adair,
a near relation and intimate friend of his, who had promised to set her
husband and the prisoner up in the banking business." He also dej>osed
that she said that Mr, Daniel Perreau was to be made a baronet, and
THE NEW WEWOATE CALENDAR. 247
described how she would act when she became a lady. The witness
further deposed that Mrs. Rudd often pretended tliat Mr. William Adair
had called to see her, but that he never had seen that gentleman on any
visit.
John Moody, a livery- servant of Daniel Perreau, deposed that his mistress
wrote two very different hands ; in one of which she wrote letters to his
master, as from IMr. William Adair, and in the other the ordinary business
of the family. That the letters written in the name of William Adair were
pretended to have been left in his master's absence ; that his mistress
ordered him to give them to his master, and pretend that Mr. Adair had
been with his mistress for a longer or shorter time, as circumstances
required. This witness likewise proved that the hand at the bottom of the
bond and tliat of his mistress's fictitious writing were precisely the same ;
that she used different pens, ink, and paper, in writing her common and
fictitious letters ; and that she sometimes gave the witness half-a-crown
when he had delivered a letter to her satisfaction. He said he had seen
her go two or three times to Mr. J. Adair's, but never to William's ; and
that Mv. J. Adair once visited his mistress on her lying-in.
Susannah Perreau (the prisoner's sister) deposed to her having seen a
note delivered to Daniel Perreau, by Mrs. Rudd, for nineteen thousand
pounds, drawn as by William Adair, on Mr. Croft, the banker, in favour
of Daniel Perreau.
Elizabeth Perkins swore that a week before the foi-gery was discovered,
her mistress gave her a letter to bring back to her in a quarter of an hour,
and say it was brought by Mr. Coverley, who had been servant to
Daniel Perreau ; that she gave her mistress this letter, and her master
instantly broke the seal,
Daniel Perreau swore that the purport of this letter was " tliat Mr.
Adair desired her to apply to his brother, the prisoner, to procure him
five thousand pounds upon his (Adair's) bond, in the same manner as he
had done before ; that Mr. Adair was unwilling to have it appear that the
money was raised for him, and therefore desired him to have the bond
lodged with some confidential friend,who would not require an assignment
of it ; that his brother, on being made acquainted with his request, showed
a vast deal of reluctancy, and said it was very unpleasant work ; but
undertook it with a view of obliging Mr. William Adair."
The counsel for the prosecution demanding " if he did not disclaim all
knowledge of the affair before Mr. Adair," he said he denied ever liaving
seen the bond before, nor had he a perfect knowledge of it till he saw it in
the hands of Mr. Adair.
David Cassady, who assisted Mr. R. Perreau as an apothecary, deposed that
he lived much within the profits of his profession, and that it was reported
he was going into the banking business.
John Leigh, clerk to Sir John Fielding, swore to the prisoner's coming
voluntarily to the oifice before his apprehension, and giving information
that a forgery had been committed. Mr. Leigh was asked if Mrs. Rudd
'• ever charged the prisoner with any knowledge of the transaction till
the justices were hearing evidence to prove her confession of the fact ;
and he answered that he did not recollect that circumstance, but that on her
nr£t examination she did not accuse the prisoner.
Mr. Perreau now called several persons of rank to his character. Lady
24S THE NEW NEAVGATE CALENDAR.
Lyttleton being asked if she thought him capable of such a crime, supposed
she could have done it as soon herself. Sir John ^loore, Sir John Chapman,
General Rebow, Captain Ellis, Captain Burgoyne, and other gentlemen,
spoke most highly to the character of the prisoner ; but the jury found him
gwilty.
It will be unnecessary now to give anything more than a succinct
account of the trial of Daniel Perreau, which immediately followed that of
his brother. He was indicted for forging and counterfeiting a bond, in the
name of William Adair, for three thousand three hundred pounds, to
defraud the said William Adair, and for uttering the same knowing it to be
forged, to defraud Tliomas Brooke, doctor of physic. Mr. Scroope Ogilvie,
clerk to ]Mr. William Adair, proved the forgery ; and Dr. Brooke swore to
the uttering of the bond.
Tlie defence set up by the prisoner was, that ]Mrs. Rudd had given the
bond to him as a true one ; and he asserted, in the most solemn manner,
that he had had no intention to defraud any man. Like his brother, he called
several witnesses to show the artifices of which Mrs, Rudd had been guilty ;
and many persons proved the great respectability of his character.
The jury, however, returned a verdict of guilty, and both prisoners
were sentenced to death ; but the execution did not take place until
January 1776, in consequence of the proceedings which were subsequently
aken against 3[rs. Rudd.
After conviction the behaviour of the brothers was, in every respect,
proper for their unhappy situation. Great interest was made to obtain a
pardon for them, particularly for Robert, in whose favour seventy-eight
bankers and merchants of London signed a petition to the king : the news-
papers were filled with paragraphs, evidently written by disinterested
persons, in favour of men whom they thought dupes to the designs of an
artful woman : but all was of no avail.
On the day of execution the brothers were favoured with a mourning-
coach, in which to be conveyed to the scaffold ; and their conduct
throughout was of the most exemplary description. After the customary
devotions were concluded, they crossed hands, and joining the four together,
in that manner were launched into eternity. They had not hanged more
than half a minute when their hands dropped asunder, and they appeared
to die without pain.
Each of them delivered a paper to the Ordinary of Newgate, which
stated their innocence, and ascribed the blame of the whole transaction to
the artifices of Mrs. Rudd ; and, indeed, thousands of people gave credit to
their assertions, and a great majority of the public thought Robert wholly
Innocent.
Daniel Perreau and Robert Perreau were executed at Tyburn on the 17th
of January, 1776.
On the Sunday following, the bodies were carried from the house
of Robert, in Golden-square, and, after the usual solemnities, deposited in
the vault of St. Martin's church. A mob of thirty thousand persons
attended the execution, and an equal number appeared at the funeral, but
nothing occurred to disturb the solemnity of either scene.
TIIK NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 249
MARGARET CAROLINE RUDD.
TRIED FOR FORGERY.
On the 16th of September, 1775, Mrs. Rudd was put to the bar at the
Old Bailey, to be tried for forgery ; but the counsel for the prisoner pleading
that, as she had been already admitted an evidence for the crown, it was
unprecedented to detain her for trial, and the judges differing in opinion
on the point of law, she was remanded to prison till the opinion of the
judges could be taken on a subject of so much importance.
On the 8th of December, 1775, she was arraigned on an indictment for
feloniously forging a bond, purporting to be signed by William Adair, and
for feloniously uttering and publishing the same.
Mr. Justice Aston now addressed the prisoner, informing her that
eleven of the judges had met (the Chief Justice of the Common Pleas being
indisposed), '' and were unanimous in opinion, that in cases not within any
statute, an accomplice, who fully discloses the joint guilt of himself and his
companions, and is admitted by justices of the peace as a witness, and who
appears to have acted a fair and ingenuous part in the disclosure of all the
circumstances of the cases in which he has been concerned, ought not to be
prosecuted for the offences so by him confessed, but cannot by law plead
this in bar of any indictment, but merely as an equitable claim to mercy
from the crown : and nine of the judges were of opinion that all the circum-
stances relative to this claim ought to be laid before the Court, to enable
the judges to exercise their discretion whether the trial should proceed or
not. With respect to the case before them, the same nine judges were of
opinion that if the matter stood singly upon the two informations of the
prisoner, compared with the indictments against her, she ought to have
been tried upon all, or any of them, for from her information she is no
accomplice. She exhibits a charge against Robert and Daniel Perreau, the
first soliciting her to imitate the hand- writing of William Adair, the other
forcing her to execute the forgery under the threat of death. Her two
informations are contradictory : if she has suppressed the truth, she has no
equitable claim to favour ; and if she has told the truth, and the whole
truth, she cannot be convicted. As to the indictments preferred against
her by Sir Thomas Frankland, as her informations before the justices have
no relation to his charges, she can claim no sort of advantage from these
informations."
The trial then proceeded. — The principal evidences were the wife o..
Robert Perreau, and John Moody, a servant to Daniel. The first endea
voured to prove that the bond was published, the latter that it was forged
Sir Thomas Frankland proved that he had lent money on the bond. It
was objected by the counsel for the prisoner, that Mrs. Perreau was an
incompetent witness, as she would be interested in the event ; but the
Court overruled this objection.
Mrs. Perreau deposed that, on the 24th December, she saw Mrs. Rudd
deliver a bond to her husband, which he laid on the table while he brushed
his coat ; that it was for five thousand three hundred pounds, payable to
Robert Perreau, and signed " William Adair ;" and that it was witnessed
in the names of Arthur Jones and Thomas Start, or Hart. ]Mrs. Perreau,
being asked when she again saw the bond, said that it was brought to her
TOL. 1. K K
250 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
on the 8th of March (the day after her husband was convicted), when she
selected it from other bonds delivered to him on the 24th of December.
She made her mark on it, and deposed that when it was delivered to
Mr. Perreau, Mrs. Rndd said, " j\lr. Adair wonld be very much obliged
to ^Ir. Perreau to try to raise upon that bond the sum ^f four thousand
pounds of Sir Thomas Frankland."
Sergeant Davy cross-examined Mrs. Perreau. She acknowledged that
till tlie 24th of December she had never seen a bond in her life ; and that
on her first sight of that in question she had no suspicion that anything
was wrong.
John Moody, the servant to Daniel Perreau, who had been examined on
the former trials, was called, and repeated the testimony which he had before
given. The bond which in tliis case was alleged to have been uttered was
that for 40U0/., on which Sir Thomas Frankland had advanced money.
The prisoner, on being called on for her defence, in a short speech
declared that she was innocent, and concluded by leaving her case in the
hands of the jury, who almost immediately declared her not guilty.
As soon as the verdict was returned, she quitted the Court, and retired
to the house of a friend at the west end of the town.
THE COUNTESS OF BRISTOL, OTHERWISE THE DUCHESS
OF KINGSTON.
CONVICTED OF BIGAMY.
Few females have in their time attracted so large a portion of public
attention as this celebrated lady. She was the daughter of Colonel Chud-
leigh, the descendant of an ancient family in the county of Devon ; but her
father dying while she was yet young, her mother was left possessed only
of a small estate with which to bring her up, and to fit her for that grade
of society in which from her birth she was entitled to move. Being
possessed, however, of excellent qualities, she improved the connexion
which she had among persons of fashion, with a view to the future success
in life of her daughter. The latter, meanwhile, as she advanced in
years, improved in beauty ; and upon her attaining the age of eighteen
was distinguislied as well for the loveliness of her person as for the wit
and brilliancy of her conversation. Her education had not been neglected ;
and, despite the small fortune possessed by her mother, no opportunity was
lost by which her mind might be improved ; and a means was about this
time afi'orded for the display of her accomplishments. The father of George
the Third held his court at Leicester-house ; and Mr. Pulteney, who then
blazed as a meteor on the opposition benches in the House of Commons,
was honoured with the particular regard of His Royal Highness. Miss
Chudleigh had been introduced to Mr. Pulteney ; and he had admired her
for the beauties of her mind and of her person ; and, his sympatliies being
excited in her behalf, he obtained for her, at the age of eighteen, the
appointment of maid of honour to the Princess of "Wales. His efforts, how-
ever, did not stop at thus elevating her to a situation of the highest honour ;
but he also endeavoured to improve the cultivation of her understanding by
instruction; and to him 31iss Chudleigh read, and with him, when separated
by distance, she corresponded.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 25'
The station to which Miss Chudleigh had been advanced, comb'c&i
■with her numerous personal attractions, produced her many admirers :
some with titles, and others in the expectation of them. Among the lornvjr
was the Duke of Hamilton, whom Miss Gunning had afterwards the good
fortune to obtain for a consort. The duke was passionately attached to
Miss Chudleigh ; and pressed his suit with such ardour as to obtain a
solemn engagement on her part, that on his return fx-om a tour, for which
he was preparing, she would become his wife. There were reasons why
this event should not immediately take place ; but that the engagement
would be fulfilled at the specified time was considered by both parties as a
moral certainty. A mutual pledge was given and accepted ; the duke
commenced his proposed tour ; and the parting condition was, that he
should write by every opportunity, and that Miss Chudleigh of course
should .inswer his epistles. Thus the arrangement of Fortune seemed to
have united a pair who possibly might have experienced much happiness,
for between the duke and JMiss Chudleigh there was a strong similarity of
disposition ; but Fate had not destined them for each other.
Miss Chudleigh had an aunt, whose name was Hanmer : at her house
the Hon. Mr. Hervey, son of the Earl of Bristol, and a captain in the
royal navy, was a visitor. To this gentleman Mrs. Hanmer became so
exceedingly partial, that she favoured views which he entertained towards
herniece, and engaged her efforts to effect, if possible, a matrimonial connexion.
There were two difficulties which would have been insurmountable, had
they not been opposed by the fertile genius of a female — Miss Chudleigh
disliked Captain Hervey, and she was betrothed to the Duke of Hamilton.
No exertions which could possibly be made were spared to render this
latter alliance nugatory ; and the wits of this woman were exerted to the
utmost to favour the object which she had in view. The letters of his
grace were intercepted by Mrs. Hanmer ; and his supposed silence giving
offence to her niece, she worked so successfully on her pride as to induce
her to abandon all thoughts of her lover, whose passion she had cherished
with delight. A conduct the reverse of that imputed to the duke was
observed by Captain Hervey : he was all that assiduity could dictate or
attention perform. He had daily access to Miss Chudleigh ; and each
interview was artfully improved by the aunt to the promotion of her own
views. The letters of his grace of Hamilton, which regularly arrived,
were as regularly suppressed ; until, piqued beyond endurance. Miss
Chudleigh was pi-evailed on to accept the hand of C-aptain Hervey, and by
a private marriage, to ensure the participation of his future honours and
fortune. The ceremony was performed in a private chapel adjoining the
country mansion of Mr. Merrill, at Lainston, near Winchester, in Hamp-
shire.
On a review of life, the predominant evil experienced may be easily
traced by every reflecting mind to some Avilful error or injudicious mistake,
operating as a determinate cause, and giving the colour to our fate. This
was the case with Miss Chudleigh ; and the hour at which she became
united with Captain Hervey proved to her the origin of every subsequent
unhappiness. The connubial rites were attended with unhappy conse-
quences ; and from the night following the day on which the marriage was
solemnized, Miss Chudleigh resolved never to have any further connexion
with her husband. To prevail on bim not to claim her as his wife required
252 TUE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
all the art of which she was mistress ; and the hest dissuasive was the loss
of her situation as maid of honour, should the marriage become publicly
known. The circumstances of Captain Hervey were not in a flourishing
condition, and were ill calculated to enable him to ride with a high hand
over his wife ; and the fear of the loss of the emoluments of her office
operated most powerfully with him to induce him to obey the injunctions
which she imposed upon him in this respect. His conduct even now, how-
ever, exhibited a strong desire to act with a degree of harshness most
unusual so soon after the performance of the marriage ceremony ; and the
consequence was that any feelings of respect which his wife may have
fancied she entertained for him were soon dispelled. Her own expression
subsequently was that " her misery commenced with the arrival of Captain
Hervey in England ; and the greatest joy she experienced was on the
intelligence of his departure." Her marriage being unknown to mere
outward observers, Miss Chudleigh, or 3Irs. Hervey, a maid in appearance
— a wife in disguise — would have been supposed to be placed in a most
enviable condition. The attractive centre of the circle in which she moved,
the hivigorating spirit of the life of tlie society formed around her, she was
universally admired. Her royal mistress smiled upon her ; the friendship
of many was at her call ; the admiration of none could be withheld from
her : but amidst all her conquests and all her fancied happiness she wanted
that peace of mind which was so necessary to support her against the
conflicts which arose in her own breast. Nor was her own heart, that
inward monitor, the only source of her trouble. Her husband, quieted for
a time, grew obstreperous as he saw the jewel admired by all, which was,
he felt, entitled only to his love ; and feeling that he possessed the right to
iier entire consideration, he resolved to assert its power. In the mean
time every art which she possessed had be(;n jjut into operation to soothe
liim to continued silence ; but her further endeavours being unsuccessful,
sne was compelled to grant his request, and to attend an interview which
he appointed, at his own house, and to which he enforced obedience by
threatening an instant and full disclosure in case of her non-compliance.
The meeting was strictly private, all persons being sent from the house
with the exception of a black servant ; and on INIrs. Hervey's entrance to
the apartment in which her husband was seated, his first care was to
prevent all intrusion by locking the door. This meeting, like all others
between her and her husband, was unfortunate in its efiects : the fruit of
it was the birth of a boy, whose existence it will be readily supposed she
had much difficulty in concealing. Her removal to Brompton for a change
of air became requisite during the term of her confinement ; and she
returned to Leicester-house, perfectly recovered from her indisposition ;
but the infant soon sinking in the arms of death, left only the tale of its
existence to be related.
In the mean time, the sum of her unhappiness had been completed by
the return of the Duke of Hamilton. His grace had no sooner arrived in
Enorland, than he hastened to pay his adoration at the feet of his idol, and
to learn the cause of her silence, wlien his letters had been regularly des-
patched to her. An interview which took place soon set the character of
Mrs. Hanmer in its true light ; but while Miss Chudleigh was convinced
of the imposition which had been practised upon her, she was unable to
accept the proffered hand of her illustrious suitor, or to explain the reason
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 253
for her apparently ungracious rejection of his addresses. The duke, flighty
as he was in otlier respects, in his love for Miss Chudleigh had at least
been sincere ; and this strange conduct on the part of his betrothed, fol-
lowed as it was by a request on her part that he would not again intrude
his visits upon her, raised emotions in his mind which can hardly be
described. The rejection of his grace was followed by that of several other
persons of distinction ; and the mother of Miss Chudleigh, who was quite
unaware of her private marriage with Captain Ilervey, could not conceal
her regret and anger at the supposed folly of her daughter.
It was impossible that these circumstances could long remain concealed
from the society in which Miss Chudleigh moved ; and, in order to relieve
herself from the embarrassments by which she was surrounded, she deter-
mined to travel on the Continent — trusting that time would eradicate the
impression of her fickleness which she left behind her, and that change of
scene would remove tlie pain which every day spent in the theatre of her
former operations could not fail to sink deeper into her heart. Germany
was the place selected by her for her travels ; and she, in turn, visited the
chief cities of its principalities. Possessed as she was of introductions of
the highest class, she was gratified by obtaining the acqviaintance of many
crowned heads. Frederic of Prussia conversed and corresponded with her.
In the Electress of Saxony she found a friend whose affection for her con-
tinued to the latest period of life. The electress was a woman of sense,
honour, virtue, and religion ; and her letters were replete with kindness.
While her hand distributed presents to Miss Chudleigh out of the treasury
of abundance, her heart was interested for her happiness. This she after
v/ards evinced during her prosecution ; for at that time a letter from the
electress contained the following passage : — " You have long experienced
my love ; my revenue, my protection, my everything, you may command.
Come then, my dear life, to an asylum of peace. Quit a country where
if you are bequeathed a cloak, some pretender may start up, and ruin you
by law to prove it not your property. Let me have you at Dresden."
On her return from the Continent Miss Chudleigh ran over the career
of pleasure, enlivened the court circles, and each year became more ingra-
tiated with the mistress whom she served. She was the leader of fashion,
played whist with Lord Chesterfield, and revelled with Lady Harrington
and Miss Ashe. She was a constant visitant at all public places, and in
1742 appeared at a masked ball in the character of Iphigenia.
Reflection, however, pvit oft" for the day, too frequently intruded an
unwelcome visit at night. Captain Hervey, like a perturbed spirit, was
eternally crossing the path trodden by his wife. If in the rooiris at Bath,
he was sure to be there. At a rout, ridotto, or ball, this destroyer of her
peace embittered every pleasure, and even menaced her with an intimation
that he would disclose the marriage to the princess.
Miss Chudleigh, now persuaded of the folly and danger of any longer
concealment from her royal mistress, determined that the design, which her
husband had formed from a malicious feeling, should be carried out by
herself from a principle of rectitude ; and she, in consequence, communicated
to the princess the whole of the circumstances attending her unhappy union.
The recital was one which could excite no feeling of disrespect or of anger ;
and her royal mistress pitied her, and continued her patronage up to the
bour of her death.
254 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
At length a stratagem was either suggested, or it occurred to Miss
Chudleigh, at once to deprive Captain Hervey of the power to claim her
as his wife. The clergyman who had married them was dead. The
register-book was in careless hands. A handsome compliment was paid
fur the inspection ; and while the person, in whose custody it was, listened
to an amusing story. Miss Chudleigh tore out the register. Thus imagin-
ing the business accomplished, she for a time bade defiance to her husband,
whose taste for the softer sex having subsided from some unaccountable
cause, afforded Miss Chudleigh a cessation of inquietude.
A change in the circumstances of the captain, however, effected an
alteration in the feelings of his wife. His father having died, he succeeded
to the title of the Earl of Bristol, and his accession to nobility was not
unaccompanied by an increase of fortune. Miss Chudleigh saw that by
assuming the title of Coimtess of Bristol she would probably command
increased respect, and would obtain greater power ; and with a degree of
unparalleled blindness, she went to the house of Mr. Merrill, the clergy-
man in whose chapel she had been married, to restore those proofs of her
union which she had previously taken such pains to destroy. Her
ostensible reason was a jaunt out of town ; her real design was to
procure, if possible, the insertion of her marriage with Captain Hervey in
the book which she had formerly mutilated. With this view she dealt out
promises with a liberal hand. The ofiiciating clerk, who was a person of
various avocations, was to be promoted to the extent of his wishes. The
book was managed by the lady to her content, and she returned to London,
secretly exulting in the excellence and success of her machination. "While
this was going on, however, her better fate influenced in her favour the
lieart of a man who was the exemplar of amiability — this was the Duke of
Kingston : but, re-married as it were by her own stratagem, the participa-
iion of ducal honours became legally impossible. The chains of wedlock,
which the lady had been so industrious in assuming or putting off, as
seemed most suitable to her views, now became galling in the extreme.
Every advice was taken, every means tried, by which her liberation might
be obtained ; but all the efforts which were made proved useless, and it
was found to be necessary to acquiesce in that which could not be opposed
successfully or pass unnoticed. The duke's passion, meanwhile, became
more ardent and sincere ; and, finding the apparent impossibility of a
marriage taking place, he for a series of years cohabited with Miss
Chudleigh, although with such external observances of decorum, that their
intimacy was neither generally remarked nor known.
The disagreeable nature of tliese proceedings on their parts was, however,
felt by both parties, and efforts were again made by means of which a
marriage might be solemnised. The Earl of Bristol was sounded ; and it
was found that, grown weary of a union with a woman whom he now dis-
liked, and whom he never met, he was not unwilling to accept the proposals
held out ; but upon his learning the design with which a divorce was
sought, he declared that he would never consent to it, for that his countess"s
vanity should not be flattered by her being raised to the rank of a duchess.
The negociations were thus for a time stopped ; but afterwards, there being
a lady with whom he conceived that he could make an advantageous
match, he listened to the suggestions which were made to him witli more
complacency, and at length declared that he was ready to adopt any
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 255
proceedings v/hich should have for their effect the annihilation of the ties
by which he was bound to I\liss Chndleigh. The civilians were consulted,
a jactitation suit was instituted ; but the evidence by which the marriage
could have been proved was kept back, and the Earl of Bristol failing, as
it was intended he should fail, in substantiating the marriage, a decree was
made, declaring the claim to be null and unsupported. Legal opinions now
only remained to be taken as to the effect of this decree, and the lawyers
of the Ecclesiastical Courts, highly tenacious of the rights and jurisdiction
of their own judges, declared their opinion to be that the sentence could
not be disturbed by the interference of any extrinsic power. In the con-
viction, therefore, of the most perfect safety, the marriage of the Duke of
Kingston with JMiss Chudleigh was publicly solemnised. The wedding
favours v/ere worn by persons of the highest distinction in the kingdom ;
and during the life-time of his grace, no attempt was made to dispute the
legality of the proceedings. For a few years the duchess figured in the
world of gaiety without apprehension or control. She was raised to the
pinnacle of her fortune, and she enjoyed that which her later life had been
directed to accomplish — the parade of title, but without that honour which
integrity of character can alone secure. She was checked in her career of
pleasure, however, by the death of her duke. The fortune which his
grace possessed, it appears, was not entailed, and it was at his option;
therefore, to bequeath it to the duchess or to the heirs of his family, as
seemed best to his inclination. His will, excluding from every benefit an
older, and preferring a younger nephew as the heir in tail, gave rise to thr
prosecution of the duchess, which ended in the beggaiy of her prosecutor
and her own exile. The demise of the Duke of Kingston was neither
sudden nor unexpected. Being attacked with a paralytic affection, he
lingered but a short time, which was employed by the duchess in journey-
ing his grace from town to town, under the false idea of prolonging his lif-^
by change of air and situation. At last, when real danger seemed to
threaten, even in the opinion of the duchess, she despatched one of her
swiftest-footed messengers to her solicitor, Mr. Field, of the Temple,
requiring his immediate attendance. He obeyed the summons, and arriv-
ing at the house, the duchess })rivately imparted her wishes, which were,
that he would procure the duke to execute, and be himself a subscribing
witness to a v/ill, made without his knowledge, and more to the taste of
the duchess than that which had been executed. The difference between
these two wills was tliis : — the duke had bequeathed the income of his
estates to liis relict during her life, and expressly under condition of her
contmuing in a state of widowhood. Perfectly satisfied, however, as the
diichess seemed with whatever was the inclination of her dearest lord, she
could not resist the opportunity of carrying her secret wishes into effect.
She did not relish the temple of Hymen being shut against her. Earnestly
therefore, did she press Mr. Field to have her own will immediately
executed, which left her at liberty to give her hand to the conqueror of
her heart ; and in her anxiety to have the restraint shaken off, she had
nearly deprived herself of every benefit derivable from the demise of the
duke. When Mr. Field was introdviced to his grace, his intellects were
perceptibly affected ; and, although he knew the friends who approached
him, a trans.'ent knowledge of their persons was the only indication of tl)e
continuance of his mental powers which he exhibited. Mr. Field very
25C THE NEW NEAVGATE CALENDAR.
properly remonstrated against the impropriety of introducing a will fot
execution to a man in such a state ; but this occasioned a severe reprehen-
sion from the duchess, who reminded him that his business was only to
obey the instructions of his employer. Feeling for his professional
character, however, he positively refused either to tender the will or to be
in any manner concerned in endeavouring to procure its execution ; and
with this refusal he quitted the house, the duchess beholding him with an
indionant eye as the annoyer of her scheme, when, in fact, by not comply-
in£f with it, he was rendering her an essential service : for had the will she
projjosed been executed, it would most indubitably have been set aside, and
the heirs would consequently have excluded the relict from everything,
except that to whicli the right of dower entitled her ; and the marriage
being invalidated, the lady in this, as iu other respects, would have been
ruined by her own stratagem. Soon after the frustration of this attempt
the Duke of Kingston expired.
No sooner were the funeral rites performed than the duchess adjusted
lier affairs, and embarked for the Continent, proposing Rome for her
temporary residence. Ganganelli at that time filled the papal chair. From
the moderation of his principles, the tolerant spirit which he on every
occasion displayed, and the marked attention he bestowed on the English,
he acquired the title of the Protestant Pope ; and to such a character the
duchess was a welcome visitor. Ganganelli treated her with the utmost
civility — gave her, as a sovereign prince, many privileges — and she was
lodged in the palace of one of the cardinals. Her vanity being thus grati-
fied, her grace, in return, treated the Romans with a public spectacle.
She had built an elegant pleasure-yacht ; a gentleman who had served in
the navy was the commander. Under her orders he sailed for Italy ; and
the vessel, at considerable trouble and expense, was conveyed up the
Tiber. The sight of an English yacht in this river was one of so unusual
a character that it attracted crowds of admirers ; but while all seemed
happiness and pleasure where the bark rested quietly on the waters of the
river, proceedings were being concocted in London which would effectually
put a stop to any momentary sensations of bliss which the duchess might
entertain.
Mrs. Cradock, who, in the capacity of a domestic, had witnessed the
marriage which had been solemnised between her grace and the Earl of
Bristol, found herself so reduced in circimistances that she was compelled
to apply to Mr. Field for assistance. The request was rejected ; and, not-
withstanding her assurance that she was perfectly well aware of all the
circumstances attending the duchess's marriage, and that she should not
hesitate to disclose all she knew in a quarter where she would be liberally
paid — namely, to the disappointed relations of the Duke of Kingston — she
was set at defiance. Tlius refused, starvation stared her in the face ; and,
stung by the ingratitude of the duchess' solicitor, she immediately set
about the work of ruin whicli she contemplated. The Duke of Kingston
had borne a marked dislike to one of his nephews, Mr. Evelyn Meadows,
one of the sons of his sister. Lady Frances Pierpoint. This gentleman
being excluded from the presumptive heirship, joyfully received the intel-
ligence that a method of revenging himself against the duchess was presented
to him. He saw Mrs. Cradock ; learned from her the particulars of the
statdinentj which she would be able to make upon oath ; and, being perfectly
MeM^
</>
A^^t'.'iir/zac^i^Z^, yba-n/ie
^/
HE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR, 257
satisfied of its truth, he preferred a bill of indictment against the Duchess
of Kingston for bigamy, which was duly returned a true bill. Notice wa«
immediately given to Mr. Field of the proceedings, and advices were forth-
with sent to the duchess to appear and plead to the indictment, to prevent
a judgment of outlawry.
The duchess's immediate return to England being thus required, she set
about making the necessary preparations for her journey ; and as money
was one of the commodities requisite to enable her to commence her home-
ward march, she proceeded to the house of Mr. Jenkins, the banker in
Rome, in whose hands she had placed security for the advance of all such
sums as she might require. The opposition of her enemies, however, had
already commenced ; they had adopted a line of policy exactly suited to
the lady with whom they had to deal. Mr. Jenkins was out, and could
not be found. She apprised him, by letter, of her intended journey, and
her consequent want of money ; but still he avoided seeing her. Suspect-
ing the trick, her grace was not to be trifled with, and findincr all her
eflForts fail, she took a pair of pistols in her pocket, and driving to Mr,
Jenkins's house, once again demanded to be admitted. The customary
answer, that Mr. Jenkins was out, was given ; but the duchess declared
that she was determined to wait until she saw him, even if it should not be
until a day, month, or year, had elapsed; and she took her seat on the
steps of the door, which she kept open with the muzzle of one of her
pistols, apparently determined to remain there. Slie knew that business
would compel his return, if he were not already in-doors ; and at length,
Mr. Jenkins, finding further opposition useless, appeared. The nature of
her business was soon explained. The conversation was not of the mildest
kind. Money was demanded, not asked. A little prevarication ensued ;
but the production of a pistol served as the most powerful mode of reason-
ing ; and the necessary sura being instantly obtained, the duchess quitted
Rome. Her journey was retarded before she reached the Alps ; a violent
fever seemed to seize on her vitals : but she recovered, to the astonishment
of her attendants. An abscess then formed in her side, which renderino- it
impossible for her to endure the motion of the carriage, a kind of litter was
provided, in which she slowly travelled. In this situation nature was
relieved by the breaking of the abscess ; and, after a painfully tedious
journey, the duchess reached Calais. At that place she made a pause ; and
there it was that her apprehension got the better of her reason. In idea
she was fettered and incarcerated in the worst cell of the worst prison in
London. She was totally ignorant of the bailable nature of her ofieuct.
and therefore expected the utmost that can be imagined. Colonel West, a
brother of the late Lord Delaware, whom the duchess had known in
England, became her principal associate ; but he was not lawyer enough to
satisfy her doubts. By the means of former connexions, and through a
benevolence in his own nature, the Earl of Mansfield had a private meeting
with the duchess ; and the venerable peer conducted himself in a manner
which did honour to his heart and character.
Her spirits being soothed by the interview, the duchess embarked for
Dover, landed, drove post to Kingston-house, and found friends displaying
both zeal and alacrity in her cause. The first measure taken was to have
the duchess bailed. This was done before Lord Mansfield ; the Duke of
Newcastle, Lord ]Mountstuart, Mr. Glover, and other characters of rank
VOL. I. L L
2^8 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
attending. The prosecution and consequent trial of the duchess becoming
objects of magnitude, the public curiosity and expectation were proportion-
ably excited. The duchess had through life distinguished herself as a most
eccentric character. Her turn of mind was original, and many of her
actions were without a parallel. Even when she moved in the sphere of
amusement, it was in a style peculiarly her own. If others invited
admiration by a partial display of their charms at a masquerade, she at
once threw off tlie veil, and set censure at defiance. Thus, at midnight
assemblies, where Bacchus revelled, and the altars of Venus were encircled
by the votaries of love, the duchess, then Miss Chudleigh, appeared almost
in the unadorned simplicity of primitive nature. The dilemma, therefore,
into which she was thrown by the pending prosecution, was, to such a
character, of the most perplexing kind.
She had already in a manner invited the disgrace, and she now neglected
the means of preventing it. Mrs. Cradock, the only existing evidence
against her, again personally solicited a maintenance for the remaining
years of her life ; and voluntarily offered, in case a stipend should be
settled on her, to retire to her native village, and never more intrude. The
offer was rejected by the duchess, who would only consent to allow her
twenty pounds a year, on condition of her sequestering herself in someplace
near the Peak of Derbyshire. This the duchess considered as a most
liberal offer ; and she expressed her astonisliment that it should be rejected.
Under the assurances of her lawyers, the duchess was as quiet as that
troublesome monitor, her own heart, would permit her to be ; and recon-
ciled in some measure to the encounter with which she was about to meet,
her repose was most painfully disturbed by an adversary, who appeared in
a new and most unexpected quarter. This was the celebrated Foote, the
actor, who, having mixed in the first circles of fashion, was perfectly
acquainted with the leading transactions of the duchess's life, and had
resolved to turn his knowledge to his own advantage. As, in the opinion
uf Maude ville, private vices are public benefits, so Foote deemed the crimes
and vices of individuals lawful game for his wit. On this principle he
proceeded with the Duchess of Kingston ; and he wrote a piece, founded
on her life, called " The Trip to Calais." The scenes w^ere humorous ; the
character of the duchess admirably drawn ; and the effect of the performance
of the farce on the stage would have been that which was most congenial
to the tastes of the scandal-mongers of the day — namely, to make the
duchess ashamed of herself. The real object of JNIr. Foote, however,
was one of a nature more likely to prove advantageous to himself— it was
to obtain money to secure the suppression of the piece ; and witli this view
he contrived to have it communicated to her grace that the Haymarket
Theatre would open with an entertainment in which she was taken off to
the life. Alarmed at this, she sent for Foote, who attended with the piece
in his pocket ; but having been desired to read it, he had not gone far before
the character of Lady Kitty Crocodile being introduced, the duchess could
no longer control her anger, and rising in a violent rage, she exclaimed,
"• Why, this is scandalous ; what a wretch you have made me." Mr. Foote
assured her that the character was not intended to "caricature her ;" — even
in his serious moments being unable to control his desire to pun — for he left
her to infer tliat it was a true picture ; and the duchess, having taken a few
turns about the room, became more composed, and requested that the piece
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 2.59'
might be left for her perusal, engaging that it should be returned by the
ensuing evening. The actor readily complied, and retired ; but the lady
being left to consider her own portrait, was so displeased with tlie likeness,
that she determined, if possible, to prevent its exposure on the stage. The
artist had no objection to sell his work, and she was inclined to become the
jxirchaser ; but on tho former being questioned as to the sum which he
should expect for suppressing the piece, he proportioned his expectations to
what he deemed the duchess's power of gratifying thera, and demanded two
thousand guineas, besides a sum to be paid as compensation for the loss of
the scenes, which had been painted for the farce, and which were not
applicable to any other purpose. The magnitude of the demand, as well it
might, staggered the duchess ; and having intimated her extreme astonish-
ment at so exorbitant a proposition, she expressed a wish that the sum
might be fixed at one within the bounds of moderation and reason. The
actor was positive ; concluding, that as his was the only article in the
market, he might name his own price : but the result Avas, that by
demanding too much, he lost all. A cheque for fourteen hundred pounds
was oftered ; the amount was increased to sixteen hundred pounds, and a
draft oa Messrs. Drummond's was actually signed ; but the obstinacy of
the actor was so great, that he refused to abate one guinea from his original
demand. The circumstance might at any other time have passed among
the indifferent events of the day, and as wholly undeserving of tho public
notice ; but those long connected with the duchess, and in haliits of
intimacy, felt tlie attack made on her as directed by a ruffian hand, at a
moment when she was least able to make resistance. His grace the Duke
of Newcastle was consulted. The chamberlain of the household (the Earl
of Hertford) was apprised of the circumstance ; and his prohibitory inter-
ference was earnestly solicited. He sent for the manuscript copy of " The
Trip to Calais." perused, and censured it.
But besides these and other powerful aids, the duchess called in profes-
sional advice. The sages of the robe were consulted, and their opinions
were that the piece was a malicious libel ; and that, should it be repre-
sented, a short-hand writer ought to be employed to attend on the night
of representation, to minute each offensive passage, as the groundwork of a
prosecution. This advice was followed, and Foote was intimidated. He
denied having made a demand of two thousand guineas ; but the Rev. Mr.
Foster contradicted him in an afiidavit. Thus defeated in point of fact,
Foote found himself baffled also in point of design. The chamberlain
would not permit the piece to be represented.
Foote now had recourse to another expedient : — He caused it to be
intimated •' that it was in his power to publish if not to perform ; but were
his expenses reimbursed (and the sum which her grace had formerly
offered would do the business), he would desist." This being communi-
cated to the duchess, she in this, as in too many cases, asked the opinion
of her friends, with a secret determination to follow her own. Foote,
finding that she began to yield, pressed his desire incessantly ; and she had
actually provided bills to the amount of one thousand six hundred pounds,
v/hich she would have given him but for the Rev. Mr. Jackson, who,
being asked his opinion of the demand, returned this answer : " Instead of
complying with it, your grace should obtain complete evidence of the
menace and demand, and then consult your counsel whether a prosecution
260 TDE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
will not lie for endeavouring to extort money by threats. Your grace
must remember the attack on the first Duke of Marlborough by a stranger,
who had formed a design either on his purse or his interest, and endeavoured
to menace him into a compliance." This answer struck the Earl of Peter-
borough and Mr. Foster very forcibly, as in perfect coincidence with their
own opinions ; and Mr. Jackson was then solicited to v/ait on Mr. Foote;
Mr. Foster, the chaplain of the duchess, professing himself to be too far
advanced in years to enter into the field of literary combat. Mr. Jackson
consented to be the champion on the following condition — that the
duchess would give her honour never to retract her determination, nor to
let Foote extort from her a single guinea. Her grace subscribina to this
condition, Mr. Jackson waited on Mr. Foote at his house in Suffolk-
street, and intimated to him the resolution to which the duchess had come.
The actor, however, still wished to have matters compromised ; and to
this end he addressed a letter to the duchess, which began with stating
" that a member of the privy council and a friend of her grace (by whom
lie meant the Duke of Newcastle) had conversed with him on the subject
of the dispute between them ; and that, for himself, he was ready to have
everything adjusted." This letter afforded the duchess a triumph. Every
line contained a concession ; and, contrary to the advice of her friends, she
insisted upon the publication of the whole correspondence.
Tliis circumstance for a time served to turn the current of attention into a
new channel. But while the public notice was withdrawn from her grace,
she felt too heavily the necessity which existed to adopt some course to enable
her either to evade or meet the impending danger. Her line of procedure was
soon determined upon — she affected an earnest desire to have the trial, ii
possible, accelerated, while in secret she took every means in her power
to evade the measures which her opponents had taken against her. Her
conduct in other respects appears to have been strangely inconsistent. An
opportunity presented itself which remained only to be embraced to secure
her object. It became the subject of a discussion in the House of Lords
whether the trial of her grace shoidd not be conducted in Westminster
Hall ; and the expense which would necessarily be incurred by the country
v/as by many urged as being a burden which ought not to rest upon the
public purse. Lord JNIansfield, privately desiring to save the duchess from
the disgrace and ignominy of a public trial, strove to avail himself of this
objection in her favour ; and so great had become the differences of opinion
entertained upon the subject, that the withdrawal of the prosecution
altogether would have been a matter which would have been considered
desirable rather than improper. Here then was the critical moment at
which the duchess might have determined her future fate. A hint was
privately conveyed to her that the sum of ten thousand pounds would
satisfy every expectation, and put an end to the prosecution ; and doubts
being expressed of the sincerity of the proposal, the offer was made in
distinct terms. The duchess was entreated by her friends to accept the
proposition which was made, and so at once to relieve herself and them
from all fear of the consequences which might result to her ; but through
a fatal mistaken confidence either in the legal construction of her case, or
in her own machinations, she refused to accede to the offers which were
held out. Resting assured of her acquittal, she resisted every attempt at
dissuasion from her purpose of going to trial ; and she assumed an air of
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 261
itidifference about the business which but ill accorded with the doubtful
nature of h(;r position. She talked of the absolute necessity of setting out
for Rome ; affected to have some material business to settle with the Pope ;
and, in consequence, took every means and urged every argument in her
power to procure the speedy termination of the proceedings — as if tlie
regular course of justice had not been swift enough to overtake her. In
the midst of her confidence, however, she did not abandon her manoeuvring ;
but at the very moment when she was petitioning for a speedy trial, she
was engaged in a scheme to get rid of the principal witness against her.
JMrs. Cradock, to whom before she had refused a trifling remuneration,
might now liave demanded thousands as the price of her evidence. A
negotiation was carried on tlirough tlie medium of a relation of hers, whp
was a letter-carrier, which had for its object her removal from England
and an interview was arranged to take place between her and tlie duchess,
at whicli the latter was to appear disguised, and was to reveal herself only
after some conversation, the object of which was that terms might be pro-
posed ; but her grace was duped : for having changed her clothes to those
of a man, she waited at the appointed hour and place without seeing either
Mrs. Cradock or the person who had promised to effect the meetino- ; and
she afterwards learned that every particular of this business had been
communicated to the prosecutors, wlio instructed the letter-carrier to pre-
tend an acquiescence in the scheme.
Thus baffled in a project which liad a plausible appearance of success,
tlie only method left was the best possible arrangement of matters prepa-
ratory to the trial. On the 15th day of April, 1766, the business came
on in Westminster-hall, when the queen was present, accompanied
by the prince of Wales, princess royal, and ethers of the royal family.
Many foreign ambassadors also attended, as well as several of the nobility.
These having taken their seats, the ducliess came forward, attended by
Mrs. Edgerton, Mrs. Barrington, and ]\Iiss Chudleigh, three of the ladies
of her bedchamber, and her chaplain, physician, and apothecary ; and as
she approached the bar she made three reverences, and then dropped on
her knees, when tlie lord high steward said, " JMadam, you may rise."
Having risen, she courtesied to the lord high steward and tlie house of
peers, and lier compliments were returned.
Proclamation being made for silence, the lord high steward mentioned to
the prisoner the fatal consequences attending the crime of which she stood
indicted, signifying that, however alarming and awful her present circum-
stances, she might derive great consolation from considering that she was
to be tried by the most liberal, candid, and august assembly in the
universe.
The duchess then read a paper, setting forth that she was guiltless of
the offence alleged against her, and that the agitation of her mind aros*^,
not from the consciousness of guilt, but from the painful circumstance of
being called before so awful a tribunal on a criminal accusation. She
begged, therefore, that if she was deficient in the observance of any cere-
monial points, her failure might not bo understood as proceeding from wilful
disrespect, but should be attributed to the unfortunate peculiarity of her
situation. It was added, that she had travelled from Rome in so dangerous
a state of health that it was necessary for her to be conveyed in a litter ;
and that she was perfectly satisfied that she should have a fair trial, since
262 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
ihe determination respecting her cause, on which materially depended her
honour and fortune, would proceed from the most unprejudiced and augiLst
assembly in the world.
The lord high steward then desired the lady to give attention while she
was arraigned on an indictment for bigamy ; and proclamation for silence
having been again made, the duchess (who had been permitted to sit)
arose, and read a paper, representing to the Court tliat she was advised by
her counsel to plead the sentence of the Ecclesiastical Court in the year
1769 as a bar to her being tried on the present indictment. The lord high
steward informed her that she must plead to the indictment ; in consequence
of which she was arraigned ; and being asked by the clerk of the crown
whether slie was guilty of the felony with which she stood charged, she
answered, with great firmness, " Not guilty, my lords.'' The clerk of the
crown then asking her how she would be tried, she said, " By God and
my peers ; " on which the clerk said, " God send your ladysliip a good
deliverance."
Four days were occupied in arguments of counsel respecting the
admission or rejection of a sentence of the Spiritual Court ; but the peers
having decided that it could not be admitted, the trial proceeded. The
first witness examined was
Anne Cradock, whose testimony was as follows : — I have known her
grace the Dncliess of Kingston ever since the year 1742, at which time
she came on a visit to the house of Mr. Merrill, at Lainston, in Hamp-
shire, daring the Winchester races. At that time I lived in the service of
Mrs. Haunier, Miss Chudleigh's aunt, who was then on a visit at Mr.
JMerriU's, where Mr, Hervey and Miss Chudleigh first met, and soon
conceived a mutual attachment for each other. They were privately
married one evening at about eleven o'clock in Ijainston church, in the
presence of j\lr. Mountney, ]\Irs. Hanmer, the Rev. Mr. Ames, the rector,
who performed the ceremony, and myself. I was ordered out of the
chui'ch to entice Mr. Merrill's servants out of the way. I saw the bride
and bridegroom put to bed together, and Mrs. Hanmer obliged them to
rise again ; they went to bed together the following night. In a few days
Mr. Hervey was under the necessity of going to Portsmouth in order to
join Sir John Danvers's fleet, in which he was then a lieutenant ; and
being ordered to caU him at five o'clock in the morning, I went into the
bedchamber at the ap^jointed hour, and found him and his lady sleeping
in bed togetlier, I was unwilling to disturb them, as I thought that the
delay of an houi' or two would make no difference, but they afterwards
parted. ^ly husband, to whom I was not then married, accompanied Mr.
Hervey in tlie capacity of servant. When Mr. Hervey returned from tin?
Slediterranean, he and his lady lived together, and I then thought that she
was pregnant. Some months after, Mr. Hervey went again to sea, and
during his absence I was informed that the lady was brought to bed ; and
I was afterwards confirmed in the information by the lady herself, who
said that slie had a little boy at nurse, whose features greatly resembled
those of Mr. Hervey.
In answer to questions put by the Duke of Grafton, the witness said
that she had never seen the child ; that it was dark when the marriage
took place in the church, and that Mr. Mountney carried a wax light
attarhcd to the crown of his hat. Upon being asked by the Earl of
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 263
Hilsborongh wliether she had not received a letter containing some offer to
induce her to appear now as a witness, she admitted that Mr. Fossard of
Piccadilly had written to her, offering her a sinecure place on condition of
her coming forward to give evidence against her grace, and stating that
she might, if she pleased, exhibit the letter to the Earl of Bristol. The
cross-examination of the witness on this point was continued during the
remainder of the sitting of their lordships ; and on the following day (the
iJOth of April) it was resumed, the Earls of Derby, Hilsborough, and
Buckinghamshire questioning her with considerable acumen. She at
length confessed that pecuniary offers had been made to her to induce her
to appear, and that she had acceded to the terms proposed.
Mrs. Sophia Pettiplace was examined as to the facts deposed to by Mrs.
Cradock ; but she was able to afford no positive information upon the
subject. Slie lived with her grace at the time of the supposed marriage,
but was not present at the ceremony, and only believed that the duchess
had mentioned the circumstance to her.
Caesar Hawkins, Esq. deposed that he had been acquainted with the
duchess several years, he believed not less than thirty. He had heard of a
marriage between JSIr. Hervey and the lady at the bar, which circumstance
was afterwards mentioned to him by botii parties, previous to Mr,
Hervey's last going to sea. By the desire of her grace, he was in the room
when the issue of the marriage was born, and once saw the child. He
was sent for by Mr. Hervey soon after his return from sea, and desired by
him to wait upon the lady, with proposals for procuring a divorce, which
he accordingly did ; when her grace declared herself absolutely determined
against listening to such terms ; and he knew that many messages passed
on the subject. Her grace some time after informed him, at his own house,
that she had instituted a jactitation suit against Mr. Hervey in Doctors'
Commons. On another visit she appeared very grave, and desiring him
to retire into another apartment, said she was exceedingly unhappy, in
consequence of an oath, which she had long dreaded, having been tendered
to her at Doctors' Commons to disavow her marriage, which she would
, not do for ten thousand worlds. Upon another visit, a short time after,
she informed him that a sentence had passed in her favour at Doctors'
Commons, which would be irrevocable unless Mr. Hervey pursued certain
measures within a limited time, which she did not apprehend he would do.
Hereupon he inquired how she got over the oath ; and her reply was, that
the circumstance of her marriage was so blended with falsities, that she
could easily reconcile the matter to her conscience ; since the ceremony
was a business of so scrambling and shabby a nature, that she could as
safely swear she was not as that she was married.
Judith Philips, being called, swore that she was the widow of the Rev.
Mr. Ames ; that she remembered when her late husband performed the
marriage ceremony between Mr. Hervey and the prisoner ; that she was
not present, but dei-ived her information from her husband ; that some
tinie after the marriage the lady desired her to prevail upon her husband
to grant a certificate, which she said she believed her husband would not
refuse ; that Mr. Merrill, who accompanied the lady, advised her to
consult his attorney from Worcester ; that in compliance v/xih the attor-
ney's advice, a register-book was purchased, and the marriage inserted
therein, with some late burials in the parish. The book was here produced.
and the witness swore to the writing of her late husband.
264 TKE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
The writing of the Rev. Mr. Ames was also proved by the Rev. Mr.
Tnchin and the Rev. Mr, Dennis ; and the entry of a caveat to the duke's
will was proved by a clerk from Doctors' Commons. The book in which
the marriage of tlie Duke of Kingston with the lady at the bar was regis-
tered on the 8th of ^Nlarch, 1769, was produced by the Rev. 3Ir. Trebeck,
of St. Margaret's, Westminster ; and the Rev. Mr. Samuel Harpur, of the
British Museum, swore that he performed the marriage ceremony between
the parties on the day mentioned in the books produced by Mr. Trebeck.
Monday, the 22nd of April, after the attorney-general had declared the
evidence on behalf of the prosecution to be concluded, the lord high
steward called upon the prisoner for her defence.^ which she read ; and the
followinor are the most material arguments it contained to invalidate the
evidence adduced for the prosecvitor : — She appealed to the Searcher of aL
hearts, that she never considered herself as legally married to Mr. Hervey ;
she said that she considered herself as a single woman, and as such was
addressed by the late Duke of Kingston ; and that, influenced by a legiti-
mate attachment to his grace, she instituted a suit in the Ecclesiastical
Court, when her supposed marriage with 3Ir. Hervey was declared null
and void ; but, anxious for every conscientious as well as legal sanction,
she submitted an authentic statement of her case to the Archbishop of
Canterbury, who, in the most decisive and unreserved manner, declared
that she was at liberty to marry, and afterwards granted, and delivered to
Dr. Collier, a special licence for her marriage with the late Duke of
Kingston. She said that on her marriage she experienced every mark of
gracious esteem from their majesties, and her late royal mistress, the
Princess Dowager of Wales, and was publicly recognized as Duchess of
Kinorston. Under such respectable sanctions and virtuous motives for the
conduct she pursued, strengthened by a decision that had been esteemed
conclusive and irrevocable for the space of seven centuries, if their lord-
ships should deem her guilty on any rigid principle of law, she hoped, nay,
she was conscious, they would attribute her failure as proceeding from a mis-
taken judgment and erroneous advice, and would not censure her for inten-
tional guilt. She bestowed the highest encomiums on the deceased duke,
and solemnly assured the Court that she had in no one instance abused her
ascendency over him ; and that so far from endeavouring to engross his
possessions, she had declared herself amply provided for by that fortune for
life which he was extremely anxious to bequeath to her in perpetuity. As to
the neglect of the duke's eldest nephew, she said it was entirely the conse-
quence of his disrespectful behaviour to her ; and she was not dissatisfied
at a preference to another nephew, whose respect and attention to her had
been such as the duke judged to be her due on her advancement to the
honour of being the wife of his grace.
The lord high steward then desired IMr. Wallace to proceed with the
evidence on behalf of the duchess. The advocate stated the nature of the
evidence he meant to produce to prove that Anne Cradock had asserted to
different people that she had no recollection of the marriage between Mr.
Hervey and the lady at the bar ; and that she placed a reliance on »
promise of having a provision made for her in consequence of the evidence
she was to give on tlie present trial : and to invalidate the depositions of
Judith Philips, he ordered the clerk to read a letter, wherein she supplicated
her grace to exert her influence to prevent her husband's discharge from
the duke's service ; and observed, that Mrs. Philips had, on the preceding
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 265
flaj', sworn that licr Ini^hand was not dismissed, but voluntarily quittpd
his station in the lionsehold of his grace.
Mr. WalUice calkd Mr. Berkley, Lord Bristol's attorney, who said his
lordship told him he was desirous of obtaining a divorce, and directed him
to Anne Cradock, saying she was the only person then living who was
present at his marriage ; and that a sliort time previous to the commence-
ment of the jactitation suit, he waited upon Anne Cradock, who informed
him that her memory was bad, and tliat she could remember nothing
perfectly in relation to the marriage, which must have been a long time
before.
Anne Pritchard deposed, that about three months before she had been
informed by Mrs. Cradock that she expected to be provided for soon after
the trial, and that she expected to be enabled to procure a place in the
Custom-house for one of her relations.
This being the whole of the evidence to be produced on behalf of her
grace, the lord high steward addressed their lordships, saying, that the
evidence on both sides having been heard, it nowbecame their lordships' duty
to proceed to the consideration of the case; that the importance and solemnity
of the occasion required that they should severally pronounce their opinions
in the absence of the prisoner at the bar, and that it was for the junior
baron to speak first.
The prisoner having then been removed, their lordships declared that
they found her guilty of the offence imputed to her.
Proclamation was then made that the usher of the black rod should
replace the prisoner at the bar ; and immediately on her appearing, the
lord high steward informed her that the lords had maturely considered tlie
evidence adduced against her, as well as the testimony of the witnesses
who had been called on her behalf, and that they had pronounced her
guilty of the felony for which she was indicted. He then inquired whether
she had anything to say why judgment should not be pronounced against
her ?
The duchess immediately handed in a paper containing the words, " I
plead the privilege of the peerage," which were read by the clerk at the
table.
The lord high steward then informed her grace that the lords had consi-
dered the plea, and agreed to allow it, adding, " Madam, you will be
discharged on paying the usual fees."
The duchess during the trial appeared to be perfectly collected, but on
sentence being pronounced she fainted, and Avas carried out of court.
This solemnity was concluded on the 22nd of April, 1776 ; but the prose-
cutors still had a plan in embryo to confine the person of the Countess of
Bristol, for to this rank she was now again reduced, to the kingdom, and to
deprive her of her personal property; and a writ oine exeat re(/nowas actually
in the course of preparation : but private notice being conveyed to her of
this circumstance, she was advised immediately to quit the country. In
order to conceal her flight, she caused her carriage to be driven publicly
through the streets, and invited a large party to dine at her house ; but,
without waiting to apologise to her guests, she drove to Dover in a post-
chaise, and there entering a boat with Mr. Harvey, the captain of her
yacht, she accompanied him to Calais. Circumstances of which she had
been advised, and which had occurred during the period of her absence
VOL. I. M M
26o THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
from Rome, rendered her immediate presence in that city necessary , and
procecdino; thither, without loss of time, she found that a Spanish friar,
whom she had left in charge of her palace and furniture, had found means
to convert her property into money, and after having seduced a young
Entrlish frii'l, who had also been left in the palace, had absconded. Having
now obtained the whole of her plate from the public bank where she had
deposited it, she returned to Calais, which she adopted as the best place
at which she could fix her residence, in consequence of the expeditious
communication which existed between that town and London, by means of
which she might be afforded the earliest intelligence of the proceedings of
her opponents. Their business was now to set aside, if possible, the will
of the Duke of Kingston. There was no probability of the success of the
attempt, but there was sufficient doubt upon the subject in the mind of
the countess to keep all her apprehensions alive.
The will of his grace of Kingston, however, received every confirmation
which the courts of justice could give, and the object of the countess now
was to dissipate rather than expend the income of his estates. A house
which she had purchased at Calais was not sufiicient for her purpose ; a
mansion at Mont Martre, near Paris, was fixed on, and the purchase of it was
negotiated in as short a time as the duchess could desire. There were
only a few obstacles to enjoyment which were not considered until the
purchase was completed. The house was in so ruinous a condition as to
be in momentary danger of falling. The land was more like the field of
the slothful than the vineyard of the industrious ; and these evils were not
perceived by the countess till she was in possession of her wishes. A law-
suit with the owner of the estate was the consequence, and the countess
went to St. Petersburgh, and there turned brandy distiller, and returned to
Paris before it was concluded. The possession of such a place, however,
was not sufficient for the countess, and she proceeded to make a second
purchase of a house, built upon a scale of infinite grandeur. The brother
of the existing French king was the owner of a domain, suited in every
respect for the residence of a person of such nobility, and the countess
determined to become its mistress. It was called the territory of St.
Assise, and was situated at a pleasant distance from Paris, abounding in
game of all descriptions, and rich in all the luxuriant embellishments of
nature. The mansion was of a size which rendered it fit for the occupa-
tion of a king ; it contained three hundred beds. The value of such an
estate was too considerable to be expected in one payment : she therefore
agreed to discharge the whole of the sum demanded, which was fifty-five
thousand pounds, by instalments. The purchase on the part of the countess
was a good one. It aftorded not only game, but rabbits in plenty ; and
finding them of superior quality and flavour, her ladyship, during the first
week of her possession, had as many killed and sold as brought her three
hundred guineas. At St. Petersburgh she had been a distiller of brandy ;
and now at Paris she turned rabbit-merchant.
Such was her situation, when one day, while she was at dinner, her
servants received the intelligence that judgment respecting the house near
Paris had been av»-arded against her. The sudden communication of the
news produced an agitation of her whole frame. She flew into a violent
passion, and burst an internal blood-vessel : but slie appeared to have
surmounted even this, until a few days afterwards, when preparing to ri«e
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 26?
from her bed, a servant who had long been with her endeavoured to
dissuade her from her purpose. Tlie countess said, " I am not very well,
but 1 v;ill rise ;" and on a remonstrance being attempted, she said, " At
your peril disobey me: I will get up and walk about the room ; ring for
the secretary to assist me." She was obeyed, dressed, and the secretary
entered the chamber. The countess then walked about, complained of
thirst, and said, " I could drink a glass of my fine Madeira, and eat a
slice of toasted bread. I shall be quite well afterwards ; but let it be a
large glass of wine." The attendant reluctantly brought, and the countess
drank the wine. She then said, " I am perfectly recovered ; I knew the
Madeira would do me good. My heart feels oddly. I will have another
glass." The servant here observed that such a quantity of wine in the
'vorning might intoxicate rather than benefit. The countess persisted in
her orders, and the second glass of Madeira being produced, she drank that
also, and pronounced herself to be charmingly indeed. She then walked a
little about the room, and afterwards said, " I will lie down on the couch ;
I can sleep, and after that I shall be entirely recovered." She seated
herself on the couch, a female having hold of each hand. In this situation
she soon appeared to have fallen into. a sound sleep, until the women felt
her hands colder than ordinary, and she was found to have expired. She
died August 26th, 1796.
PETER LE MAITRE.
CONVICTED OF ROBBING THE ASHMOLEAN MUSEUM AT OXFORD.
When Lord Thurlow was chancellor of England some villains broke
into his house, in Great Ormond-street, and stole the great seal of England,
which was never recovered, nor were the thieves known. We have heard
also of a valuable diamond being stolen from the late Duke of Cumberland,
when pressing into the theatre in the Haymarket to see the bubble of the
bottle conjurer. It is also a fact that the Duke of Beaufort was robbed
of his diamond order of St. George as he went to Court on a royal birthday ;
but we have yet to tell that a museum was robbed of its curious medals.
Peter Le Maitre, the thief, was a French teacher at Oxford, and being
supposed to be a man of industry and good morals, he was induloed witli
free admission to the Ashraolean Museum. Thither he frequently went, and
appeared very studious over the rare books, and other valuable articles
there deposited. He was frequently left alone to his researches. At one
of sucli times he stole two medals, and at another he secreted himself until
the doors were locked for the night. When all had retired he came from
his lurking-place, and broke open the cabinet where the medals were
locked up, and possessed himself of its contents ; he then wrenched a ba-
from the window, and, unsuspected, made his escape.
The college was thrown into tlie utmost consternation on findino* theii
Museum thus plundered. Some were suspected, but least of all Le Maitre
until it was discovered that he had privately left the city in a post-chaise
and four, and that he had pledged two of the stolen medals to pay the
post-boys. This left little doubt that he was the ungrateful thief. H?
was advertised and described, and by this means apprehended in Ireland.
268 THE NEW NKWGATE CALENDAR.
He was conveyed back to Oxford, in order to take his trial ; and it
appeared that two of the stolen medals were found in a bureau in his
lodgings, of which he had tlie use ; and two more were traced to the
persons to wliom he Iiad sold them.
He had little to offer in extenuation of his crime, and on the clearest
evidence he was found gudty on the 7th March, 1777 ; and he paid the
penalty of his offence by enduring five years' hard labour at ballast-heaving
on the river Thames.
Whether the ungrateful depredation of Le Maitre stimulated others to
the commission of similar crimes we know not, but it is certain that soon
afterwards IMagdalen College Chapel, Oxford, was broken open by two
thieves, who stole from the altar a pair of large silver candlesticks and a
silver dish, with which they escaped undetected.
DAVID BROWN DIGNUM.
CONVICTED OF PRETENDING TO SELL PLACES UNDER GOVERNMENT.
The case of this offender may be well looked upon as a warning to many
of those whose advertisements are daily seen in the newspapers of the
present day, offering a premium to any person who will find a situation for
the advertiser. Many persons have recently been duped in their search
after employment, by fellows who have obtained their money by means of
false pretences ; but few have gone the length to pretend to put the
advertiser in possession of the place which he sought.
Dignum was indicted on the 5th of April, 1777, at the Guildhall, West-
minster, for defrauding Mr. John Clarke of the sum of one hundred poxmds
two shillings and tenpence, which he had obtained from him under
pretence of investing him with the office of clerk of the minutes in his
majesty's custom-house in Dublin. The evidence in the case was very
simple. The negotiation was commenced between Mr. Clarke and the
prisoner at an early period in the year ; and the money having been paid
over, the prisoner handed to the prosecutor a stamped paper or warrant,
bearing the signature of Lord Weymouth, and countersigned by " Thomas
Daw," which he told him would enable him to assume the office which it
mentioned. LTpon his proceeding to do so, however, he was found to have
been hoaxed ; and upon inquiry, he discovered that the signatures were
forged, and that the seals attached to the warrant had been taken from
some other instrument. The jury immediately found the prisoner guilty ;
but the magistrates hesitated a long time on the punishment which should
be inflicted on such an offender, and at length sentenced him to work five
years on the river Thames.
The prisoner, while in Tothill-fields Bridewell, tried every means in
his power to effect his escape, and offered to bribe an attendant in the
prison with a bank-note of ten pounds, to favour his escape in a large
chest. Upon his conviction, no time was now lost in conveying him on
board the ballast-lighter. Being possessed of plenty of money, and having
high notions of gentility, he went to Woolwich in a post-chaise, with his
negro servant behind, expecting that his money would procure every
indulgence in his favour, and that his servant would be still admitted to
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
269
attend him : but in this he was egregiously mistaken. The keepers of the
lighter would not permit him to come on board, and Dignum was imme-
diately put to the duty of the wheelbarrow.
On Monday, the 5th of May, Dignum sent a forged draft for five
hundred pounds for acceptance to Mr. Drummond, banker, at Charing-
cross, who, discovering the imposition, carried the publishers before Sir
John Fielding : but they were discharged ; and it was intended to procure
an habeas corpus to remove Dignum to London for examination.
This plan, however, was soon seen through ; for, on consideration, it
seemed evident that Dignum, by sending the forged draft from on
board the lighter, pieferred the chance of escape, even though death
])re6ented itself on the other side, to his situation ; so that no further steps
were taken in the affair, and he remained at work for the period to which
he was sentenced by the laws of his country.
JAMES HILL, alias HIND, alius ATKINS, alias JOHN
THE PAINTER.
EXECUTED FOR FIRING PORTSMOUTH DOCK-YARD.
A MORE dangerous character than this has rarely existed. His offence
was of a nature aimed at the very safety of the kingdom, and, if successful,
and followed up by the operations of his more powerful friends, for whose
benefit it eventually appeared that he had committed the foul crime of
which he was guilty, the most disastrous consequences might have ensued.
Hill, it appears, was a Scotchman by birth, and was by trade a painter ;
from which circumstance he obtained the name by which he is generally
known, of " John the Painter." Having gone to America at an early age,
during a residence there of some years, he imbibed principles opposed to the
interests of his own country. Transported with party zeal, he formed the
desperate resolution of committing a most atrocious crime against the
welfare of England — namely, the burning of the dock -yards at Portsmouth
and Plymouth. At about four o'clock in the afternoon of the 7th of
December, 1776, a fire broke out in the round-house of Portsmouth dock,
by which the whole of that building was consumed, and from whosb
ravages the rest of the surrounding warehouses were with difficulty saved.
The fire was at first attributed to accident ; but on the 5th of January
following, three men, who were engaged in the hemp-house, discovered a
tin machine, somewhat resembling a tea-canister, and near the same spot a
wooden box, containing various kinds of combustibles. This circumstance
being communicated to the commissioner of the dock, and circulated
among the public, several vague and indefinite suspicions fell upon Hill,
who had been lurking about the dock-yard, where he was distinguished by
the appellation of " John the Painter."
In consequence of advertisements in the newspapers, offering a reward
of fifty pounds for apprehending him, he was secured at Odiham, and on
the 17th of February the prisoner was examined at Sir John Fielding's
office. Bow -street, where John Baldwin, who exercised the trade of a
painter in different parts of America, attended, by the direction of Lord
Temple. The prisoner's conversations with Baldv,un operated very materially
to secure his conviction
070 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
He had said he had taken a view of most of the dock-yards and fortifi-
cations about England, the number of ships in the navy, and had observed
their weight of metal and their number of men, and had been to France
two or tliree times to inform Silas Deane, the American envoy, of his dis-
coveries ; that Deane gave him bills to the amount of three hundred pounds,
and letters of recommendation to a merchant in the city, which he had
burned, lest they should lead to a discovery. He informed Baldwin
further, that he had instructed a tinman's apprentice at Canterbury to make
him a tin canister, which he carried to Portsmouth, where he hired a
lodging at one Mrs. Boxall's, and tried his preparations for setting fire to
the dock-yard. After recounting the manner of preparing matches and
combustibles, he said that, on the 6th of the preceding December, he got
into the hemp-house, and having placed a candle in a wooden box, and a
tin canister over it, and sprinkled turpentine over some of the hemp, he
proceeded to the rope-house, where he placed a bottle of turpentine among
the loose hemp, which he sprinkled also with turpentine ; and having laid
matches, made of paper daubed over with powdered charcoal and gun-
powder diluted Avith water, and other combustibles, about the place, he
returned to his lodgings. These matches were so contrived as to continue
burning for twenty-four hours, so that by cutting them into proper lengths
he might provide for his escape, knowing the precise time when the
fire would reach the combustibles. He had hired lodgings in two other
houses to whicli he also intended to set fire, that the engines might not be
all employed together in quenching the conflagration at the dock. On the
7th he again went to the hemp-house, intending to set it on fire ; but
he was unalile to effect his object, owing to a halfpenny-worth of
common house matches that he had bought not being sufficiently dry.
This disappointment, he said, rendered him exceedingly uneasy, and he
went from the hemp-house to the rope-house, and set fire to the matches
he had placed there. His uneasiness was increased because he could not
return to his lodging, where he had left a bundle containing an " Ovid's
Metamorphoses," a " Treatise on War and making Fireworks," a " Justin,"
a pistol, and a French passport, in which his real name was inserted ; and
also because he could not fire them too, in accordance with his original
plan.
When he had set fire to the rope-house he proceeded' towards London,
deeply regretting his failure in attempting to fire the other building, and
was strongly inchned to discharge a pistol into the windows of the women
who had sold him the bad matches. He jumped into a cart, and gave tlie
woman who drove it sixpence to induce her to drive quick ; and when he
had passed the sentinels, he observed that the fire had made so rapid a
progress that the elements seemed in a blaze. At about ten o'clock the
next morning he arrived at Kingston, and having remained there until
dusk, at that time he proceeded on towards London in the stage. Soon
after his arrival, he went to the house of the gentleman on whom the biUs
had been drawn, but having related his story, he was received with distrust,
and therefore went away. On his reaching Hammersmith he wrote back
to the merchant, saying that he was going to Bristol ; and he added, that
" the handy works he meant to perform there would soon be known to the
public." Soon after his arrival in Bristol, he set fire to several houses,
wiiich were all burning at one time and the flames were not extlnguislied
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 271
until damage to the amount of 15,000/, had been caused. He also
set fire to some combustibles which h(^ had placed among the oil-barrels on
the quay ; but in this instance without the effect which he desired.
His trial commenced on the 6tli of March, 1777, at Winchester Castle,
when witnesses were produced from different parts of the country, who
proved the whole of his confession to Baldwin to be true, and gave other
evidence of his guilt.
When called upon for his defence, he complained of the reports circulated
to his prejudice; and observed, that it was easy for such a man as Baldwin
to feign the story he had told, and for a number of witnesses to be collected
to give it support. He declared that God alone knew whether he was, or
was not, the person who set fire to the dock-yard ; and begged it might be
attended to how far Baldwin ought to be credited : that if he had art
enough, by lies, to insinuate anything out of him, his giving it to the
knowledge of others was a breach of confidence ; and if he would speak
falsely to deceive him, he might also impose upon a jury.
The learned judge having delivered his charge to the jury, after a
moment's consideration, they returned a verdict of Guilty. The sentence
of death was immediately passed upon the prisoner, and he was ordered for
execution on the 10th of March following, when he was hano-ed within
sight of the ruins which he had occasioned.
His body for several years hung in chains on Blockhouse Point, on the
opposite side of the harbour to the town.
To these particulars we shall add his confession. On the morning after
his condemnation he informed the turnkey, of his own accord, that he felt
an earnest desire to confess his crime, and to lay the history of his life
before the public ; and that by discovering the whole of his unaccountable
plots and treasonable practices, he might make some atonement to his
injured country for the wrongs he had done it, of which he was now truly
sensible.
This requfist being made known to the Earl of Sandwich, then first lord
of the admiralty, that nobleman directed Sir John Fielding to send down
proper persons to take and attest his confession.
He said that the diabolical scheme of setting fire to the dock-yards and
the shipping originated in his own wicked mind, on the very breaking out
of the rebellion in America ; and he had no peace until he proceeded to put
it in practice. The more he thought of it, the more practicable it appeared ;
and with this wicked intent he crossed the Atlantic. He had no sooner
landed than he proceeded to take surveys of the different dock-yards ; and
he then went to Paris, and had several conferences with Silas Deane,the rebel
minister to the court of France. Deane was astonished at Hill's proposals,
which embraced the destruction of theEnglish dock-yards and the shipping;
but finding the projector an enthusiast in the cause of America, and a man
of daring spirit, he gradually listened to his schemes, and supplied him
with money to enable him to carry them into execution, procured him a
French passport, and gave him a letter of credit on a merchant in London.
He then confirmed the evidence given against him, and in particular that
of the witness Baldwin ; and he added, that had he been successful in his
attempt upon Portsmouth and Plymouth dock -yards, he should have been
rewarded with a commission in the American navy.
272 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
FRANCIS MERCIER, alias LOUIS DE BUTTE.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
The case of this criminal was attended by circumstances of very great
atrocity. The malefactor and hisimfortunate victim were natives of France.
Tlie unfortunate Jacques Mondroyte was a jeweller and watchmaker of
Paris, and had made a journey to London, in order to find a market for
ditferent articles of his manufacture. His stock consisted of curious and
costly trinkets, worth, as was computed, a few thousand pounds. He
took lodgings in Prince's-street, and engaged Mercier, who had resided
some time in London, as his interpreter, on a liberal gratuity, and treated
him as a friend.
It appeared that the ungrateful villain had long determined upon
murdering his employer, in order to possess himself of the whole of his
valuable property. To this diabolical end, he gave orders for an instru-
ment to be made of a singular construction, whicli was a principal means
of leading to his discovery as the murderer. It was shaped somewhat
like an Indian tomahawk ; and this instrument of death he concealed until
an opportunity oftered to eflect his detestable purpose.
One day, his employer. Monsieur Mondroyte, invited him to spend the
evening : they played at cards, sang some French songs, and took a
cheerful glass, but with that moderation peculiarly observable among
Frenchmen ; and a late hour having arrived, the kind heart of the host
forbade his dismissing his friend without oft'ering him a bed for the night.
The offer was accepted after some hesitation, and both parties retired to
rest. As soon as the neighbours were wrapped in sleep, ]\Iei-cier took from
the lining of his coat, where it had remained constantly concealed, the
fatal weapon which had been prepared, and with it he struck his victim
repeated blows on the head until he killed him. He then thrust the body
into one of the trunks in which the owner had brought over his merchan-
dise, and having ransacked and plundered the apartments, he locked the
doors and made his escape.
On the next day he had the hardihood to return to the house, and to
inquire whether Monsieur Mondroyte had set off, pretending that he had
proposed a journey into the country ; and the people of the house con-
cluding that he had let himself out before they had risen, and that this
accounted for their finding the street door on the latch, replied that he
must have departed, giving that circumstance as a reason for such belief.
This audacious farce was acted by the murderer for some days, during
which time he frequently called to know whether his friend had returned.
The family, however, beginning to entertain suspicions of some foul play,
procured a ladder, entered the chamber window of their unfortunate lodger,
and soon discovered the body crammed into the trunk, which was only two
feet four inches long, already beginning to putrefy. There appeared on the
head several deep wounds.
A warrant was thereupon granted to apprehend IMercier, who was taken
just as he was alighting from a post-chaise, in which he had been jaunting
with a woman of the town. In his lodgings, and on his person, were
fotiud sixteen gold watches, some of great value ; a great number of
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 273
brilliant diamond and other rings ; a variety of gold trinkets ; and
seventy-five guineas.
On his examination he confessed his guilt, which, added to the proof
taat the manufactured articles had been the property of Mondroyte,
secured his conviction. He was subsequently tried at the Old Bailey, and
a verdict of Guilty being returned, he was sentenced to be hanged on the
following Monday.
He was carried to execution opposite the place where he committed the
murder ; and no man ever met death with more dread. He used every
evasion to prolong the fatal hour, repeatedly craving time for his devotions,
until the sheriff, perceiving his motive, gave the signal, and he was turned
off, on the 8th of December 1777, amidst the execrations of the surround-
ing spectators.
JOHN HOLMES AND PETER WILLIAMS.
WHIPPED FOR STEALING DEAD BODIES.
These impious robbers were of a class now, happily, no longer in
existence, thanks to the exertions of modern legislators, who have made
such enactments as render the stealing dead bodies no longer profitable.
Tlie names by which such fellows were formerly known were " resurrec-
tionists," and "body-snatchers ;" and so common — nay, so necessary was
their trade for the purposes of science, that it was carried on without the
smallest attempt at concealment. A monthly publication, in March 1776,
says, " The remains of more than twenty dead bodies were discovered in a
shed in Tottenham-court-road, supposed to have been deposited there by
traders to the surgeons, of whom there is one, it is said, in the Borough,
who makes an open profession of dealing in dead bodies, and is well known
by the name of " The Resurrectionist."
It is notorious that when Hunter, the famous anatomist, was in full
practice, he had a surgical theatre behind his house in Windmill-street,
where he gave lectures to a very numerous class of pupils, demonstrating
upon stolen " subjects." To this place such numbers of dead bodies were
brought during the winter season, that the mob rose several times, and
were upon the point of pulling down his house. Numberless were the
instances of dead bodies being seized on their way to the surgeons ; and it
was known that hackney-coachmen, for an extra fare, and porters with
hampers, were often employed by the resurrection-men to convey their
plunder to its market.
In more recent days the establishment of Brookes, which was carried on
for a purpose exactly similar to that of Hunter, has been equally well
known to be supplied in the same manner. But at the same time that
such a trade must have been most disgusting, and its effects most harrow-
ing to persons, the bodies of whose friends or relations may have been carried
off' to be placed under the knife of the anatomist, every excuse must be
made for those by whom it was supported. The advancement of science
was most desirable to be obtained, and most important for the existing
generation ; and where the law was deficient in providing the proper means
of obtaining this great end, it became requisite that measuree, unlawful ic
VOL. I. N N
274 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
tliemselves, it must be owned, should be adopted to secure an object, the
absolute necessity of which was universally admitted.
Provisions have recently been made by Parliament, by which all body-
stealing has been effectually stopped. The bodies of unclaimed paupers
and suicides are now submitted to the anatomist ; and under the excellent
arrangements of a superintendant officer who is appointed, all hospitals
and schools are well supplied, the number of bodies at his disposal being
generally more than adequate to meet tlie demand. It should be added,
that the remains are invariably buried with all that decorum and resptect,
which would be observed in the interment of a body under other circum-
stances.
But to proceed to the case now before us. Holmes, the principal
offender, was grave-digger of St. George's, Bloomsbury ; Williams was his
assistant ; and a woman named Esther Donaldson was charged as an
accomplice. They were all indicted, in December 1777, for stealing the
body of Mrs. Jane Sainsbury, who departed this life on the 9th of October
then last past, and whose corpse had been interred in the burying-ground
of St. George's on the Monday following. They were detected before they
could secure their booty ; and the widower, however unpleasant, deter-
mined to prosecute them. In order to secure their conviction, he had to
undergo the painful task of viewing and identifying the remains of his
wife.
The grave-digger and his deputy were convicted on the fullest evidence ;
and the acquittal of the woman was much regretted, as no doubt remained
of her equal guilt. She was therefore released ; but Holmes and Williams
were sentenced to six months' imprisonment, and to be whipped twice on
their bare backs from the end of Kingsgate-street, Holborn, to Dyot-
street, St. Giles's, a distance of half a mile. The sentence was duly carried
out, amidst crowds of well- satisfied and approving spectators.
DR. WILLIAM DODD.
EXECUTED FOR FORGERY.
The character and the offence of this unfortunate divine are too well
known to render it necessary that any introduction to the recital of the
circumstances of his case should be attempted.
Dr. Dodd was the eldest son of a clergyman who held the vicarage of
Bourne in the county of Lincoln, and was born at Bourne on the 29th
of May 1729; and after finishing his school education, was admitted a
sizar of Clare Hall, Cambridge, in the year 1745, under the tuition of Mr,
John Courtail, afterwards Archdeacon of Lewes. At the University he
acquired the approbation of his superiors by his close attention to his
studies; and at the close of the year 1749 he took his first degree of
bachelor of arts with considerable reputation, his name being included in
the list of wranglers. It was not only in his academical pursuits, however,
that he was emulous of distinction. Having a pleasing manner, a genteel
address, and a lively imagination, he was equally celebrated for his accom-
plishments and his learning. In particular he was fond of the elegances
of dress, and became, as he ludicrously expressed it, " a zealous votary of
'^l.€<i^^y^^yte^i'^'?^^^ ^■'
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 275
the god of Dancing," to whose service he dedicated much of that time
which he could borrow from his more important avocations.
The talent which he possessed was very early displayed to the public ;
and by the time he had attained the age of eighteen years, prompted by
the desire of fame, and perhaps also to increase his income, he commenced
author, in which character he began to obtain some degree of reputation.
At this period of his life, young, thoughtless, volatile and inexperienced,
he precipitately quitted the University, and, relying entirely on his pen,
removed to the metropolis, where he entered largely into the gaieties of the
town, and followed every species of amusement with the most dangerous
avidity. In this course, however, he did not continue long. To the
surprise of his friends, who least suspected him of taking such a step,
without fortune, and destitute of all means of supporting a family, he
hastily imited himself, on the 13th of April 1751, in marriage with Miss
Mary Perkins, daughter of one of the domestics of Sir John Dolben, a
young lady then residing in Frith-street, Soho, who, though endowed with
personal attractions, was deficient in those of birth and fortune. To a
person circumstanced as i\Ir. Dodd then was, no measure could be more
imprudent, or apparently more ruinous and destructive to his future
prospects in life. He did not, however, seem to view it in that light, but,
with a degree of thoughtlessness natural to him, he immediately took and
furnished a house in Wardour-street. His friends now began to be alarmed
at his situation, and his father came to town in great distress upon the
occasion ; and in consequence of the advice which he gave him, liis son
quitted his house before the commencement of winter, and, urged by
the same preceptor, he was induced to adopt a new plan for his future sub-
sistence. On the 19th of October in the same year, he was ordained a
deacon by the Bishop of Ely, at Cains College, Cambridge ; and, with more
prudence than he had ever shoNvn before, he now devoted himself with
great assiduity to the study and duties of his profession. In these pursuits
he appeared so sincere, that he even renounced all his attention to his
favourite objects — polite letters. At the end of his preface to the
" Beauties of Shakspoare," published in this year, he says, " For my owq
part, better and more important things henceforth demand my attention ;
and I here with no small pleasure take leave of Shakspeare and the critics.
As this work was begun and finished before I entered upon the sacred
function in which I am now happily employed, let me trust this juvenile
performance will prove no objection, since graver, and some very eminent,
members of the Church have thought it no improper employ to comment
upon, explain, and publish the works of their own country poets."
The first service in which he was engaged as a clergyman was to assist
the Rev. Mr. Wyatt, vicar of West Ham, as his curate : thither he removed,
and there he spent the happiest and more honourable moments of his life.
His behaviour was proper, decent, and exemplary. It acquired for him the
respect and secured for him the favour of his parishioners so far, that on the
death of their lecturer, in 17.52, he was chosen to succeed him. His abili-
ties had at this time every opportunity of being shown to advantage ; and
his exertionswere so properly directed, that he soon became a favourite and
popular preacher. Those who were at this period of his life acquainted
with his character and his talents, bear testimony to the indefatigal)le zeal
frhich he exhibited in his ministry, and the success with which his elforta
276 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
were crowned. The follies of his youth seemed entirely past, and his
friends viewed the alteration in his conduct with the greatest satisfaction ;
while the world promised itself an example to hold out for the imitation of
others. At this early season of his life, he entertained sentiments favour-
able towards the opinions of Mr. Hutchinson, and he was suspected to
incline towards Methodism ; but subsequent consideration confirmed his
belief in the doctrines of the Established Church. In 1752 he was selected
lecturer of St. James, Garlick-hill, which, two years afterwards, he
exchanged for the same post at St. Olave, Hart-street ; and about the
same time he was appointed to preach Lady Moyer's lectures at St. Paul's,
where, from the visit of the three angels to Abraham, and other similar
passages in the Old Testament, he endeavoured to prove the commonly-
received doctrine of the Trinity. On the establishment of the Magdalen
House in 1758, he was amongst the first and most active promoters of that
excellent charitable institution, which derived great advantage from his
zeal for its prosperity, and which, even up to the unhappy termination
of his life, continued to be materially benefited by the exercise of his
talents in its behalf. His exertions, however, were not confined to this
hospital, but he w^as also one of the promoters of the Society for the Relief
of Poor Debtors, and of the Humane Society for the recovery of persons
apparently drowned.
From the time that he entered upon the service of the Church, Dr. Dodd
had resided at West Ham, and made up the deficiency in his income by
superintending the education of a few young gentlemen who were placed
under his care ; an occupation for which he was well fitted. In 1759 he
took the degree of Master of Arts, and in 1763 he was appointed chaplain
in ordinary to the King ; and about the same time he became acquainted
with Dr. Squire, the bishop of St. David's, who received him into his
patronage, presented him to the prebend of Brecon, and recommended him
to the Earl of Chesterfield as a proper person to be intrusted with the
tuition of his successor in the title. The following year saw him chaplain
to the King; and in 1766 he took the degree of Doctor of Laws at
Cambridge.
The expectations which he had long entertained of succeeding to the
rectory of "West Ham now appeared hopeless ; and having given up all
prospect of their being realised, after having been twice disappointed, he
resigned his lectureship both there and in the City, and quitted the place —
" a place," said he to Lord Chesterfield in a dedication to a sermon entitled
" Popery inconsistent vpith the natural Rights of Men in general, and English-
men in particular," published in 1768, " ever dear, and ever regretted by
me, the loss of which, truly afi'ecting to my mind (for there I was useful,
and there I trust I was loved), nothing but your lordship's friendship and
connexion could have counterbalanced." The " Thoughts in Prison" of the
unfortunate gentleman contain a passage of a similar tendency, from which
it may be inferred that he was compelled to quit this his favourite
residence; a circumstance which he pathetically laments, and probably
with great reason, as the first step to that change in his situation which led
him insensibly to his last fatal catastrophe.
On his quitting West Ham, he removed to a house in Southampton- row ;
and at the same time he launched out into scenes of expense, which his
income, although now by no means a small one, was inadequate to support.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 277
He provided himself with a conntry-house at Ealing, and exchanged his
chariot for a coach, in order to accommodate his pupils, who, hesides liia
noble charge, were in general persons of family and fortune. About the
same time it was his misfortune to obtain a prize of 1000/. in the state
lottery ; and elated with his success, he engaged with a builder in a plan
to erect a chapel near the palace of the Queen, from whom it took its name.
He entered also into a like partnership at Charlotte Chapel, Bloomsbury ,
and both these schemes were for some time very beneficial to him, though
their proceeds were much inferior to his expensive habits of living. His
expectations from the former of these undertakings were extremely
sanguine. It is reported that in fitting up his chapel near the palace, he
flattered himself with the hopes of having some young royal auditors, and
in that expectation assigned a particular pew or gallery for the heir-
apparent. But in this, as in many other of his views, he was disappointed.
In the year 1772 he obtained the rectory of Hockliffe in Bedfordshire,
the first cure of souls he ever had. With this also he held tlie vicarage of
Chalgrove ; and the two were soon after consolidated. An accident hap-
pened about this time, from v/hich he narrowly escaped with his life.
Returning from Barnet, he was stopped near St. Pancras by a hiorhwayman,
■who discharged a pistol into the carriage, which, happily, only broke the
glass. For this fact the delinquent was tried, and, on Mrs. Dodd's evidence,
con\'icted and hanged. Early in the next year Lord Chesterfield died, and
was succeeded by Dr. Dodd's pupil, who appointed his preceptor to be his
chaplain.
At this period Dr. Dodd appears to have been in the zenith of his popu-
larity and reputation. Beloved and respected by all orders of people, he
would have reached, in all probability, the situation which was the object
of his wishes, had he possessed patience enough to have waited for it, and
prudence sufiicient to keep himself out of those difficulties which might
prove fatal to his integrity. But the habits of dissipation and expense had
acquired too great an influence over him ; and he had by their means
involved himself in considerable debts. To extricate himself from them, he
was tempted to an act which entirely cut oft" every hope which he could
entertain of rising in his profession, and totally ruined him in the opinion
of the world. On the translation of Bishop Moss, in February 1774,
to the see of Bath and Wells, the valuable rectory of St. George, Hanover-
square, fell to the disposal of the Crown, by virtue of the King's prerogative.
Whether from the suggestion of his own mind, or from the persuasion of
some friend, is uncertain ; but on this occasion he took a step of all others
the most wild and extravagant, and the least likely to be attended with
success. He caused an anonymous letter to be sent to Lady Apsley, offer-
ing the sum of three thousand pounds if by her means he could be presented
to the living. The letter was immediately communicated to the chancellor,
and, after being traced to the writer, was laid before his majesty. The
insult ofi"ered to so high an ofiicer by the proposal was followed by instant
punishment. Dr. Dodd's name was ordered to be struck out of the list of
chaplains. The press teemed with satire and invective ; he was abused and
ridiculed in the papers of the day ; and to crown the whole, the trans-
action became a subject of entertainment in one of Mr. Foote's pieces at the
Haymarket.
As no explanation could justify so absurd a measure, so no apology
278 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
could palliate it. An evasive letter in the newspapers, promising a jurtifi-
cation at a future day, was treated with universal contempt ; and stung
with remorse, and feelingly alive to the disgrace he had brought on himself,
he hastily quitted the place where neglect and insult only attended him,
and (Toinor to Geneva to his late pupil, he was presented by him with the
livino- of Wincre in Buckinghamshire, which he held with that of Hockliffe,
by virtue of a dispensation. Though encumbered with debts, he might
still liave retrieved his circumstances, if not his character, had he
attended to the dictates of prudence ; but his extravagance continued
undiminished, and drove him to pursue schemes which overwhelmed him
with additional infamy. He became the editor of a newspaper ; and it is
said that he even attempted, by means of a commission of bankruptcy, to
clear himself from his debts ; an attempt in which, however, he failed.
From this period it would appear that every step which he took led to
complete his ruin. In the summer of 1776, he went to France, and there,
with little regard to decency or the observances proper to be maintained by
a minister of religion, he paraded himself in a phaeton at the races on the
plains of Sablons, dressed in all the foppery of the kingdom in which be
was temporarily resident. At the beginning of winter he returned to
London, and continued there to exercise the duties of his profession until
the very moment of his committing the offence for which his life was sub-
sequently forfeited to the offended laws of his country. On the 2nd of
February 1777, he preached his last sermon at the Magdalen Chapel,
where he was still heard with approbation and pleasure ; and on the 4th
of the same month he forged a bond, purporting to be tliat of his late
pupil, the Earl of Chesterfield, for 4200Z. Pressed by creditors, and unable
any lono-er to meet their demands or soothe their importunities, he was
driven to commit this crime, as the only expedient to which he could have
recourse to aid him in his escape from his difficulties. The method which
he adopted in completing the forgery was very remarkable. He pretended
that the noble earl had urgent occasion to borrow 4000/., but that he did
not choose to be his own agent, and he begged that the matter therefore
might be secretly and expeditiously conducted. A person named Lewis
Robertson was the person wliom he employed as broker to negotiate the
transaction ; and he presented to him a bond, not filled up or signed, that
he might find a person ready to advance the sum required, as he directed
him to say, to a young nobleman who had lately come of age. Several
applications were made by Robertson without success, the persons refusing
because they were not to be present when the bond was executed ; but at
lencrth the agent, confiding in tlie honour and integrity of his employer
went to Messrs. Fletcher and Peach, who agreed to advance the money.
Mr. Robertson then carried the bond back to the doctor, in order that it
might be filled up and executed ; and on the following day it was returaed,
bearing the signature of the Earl of Chesterfield, and attested by the doctor
himself. j\Ir. Robertson, knowing that Mr. Fletcher was a man who
required all legal observances to be attended to, and that he would there-
fore object to the bond as bearing the name of one witness only, put his
name under that of Dr. Dodd, and in that state he carried the bond to him,
and received from him the sum of 4000/. in return, which he paid over
to his employer.
Ine bond was subsequently produced to the Earl of Chesterfield ; but
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 279
immediately on his seeing it, he disowned it, and expressed himself at a loss
to know by whom such a forgery upon him could have been committed.
It was evident, however, that the supposed attesting witnesses must, if
their signatures were genuine, be acquainted with its author ; and Mr.
Manly, his lordship's agent, went directly to consult Mr. Fletcher upon
the best course to be taken ; and after some deliberation, ]\Ir. Fletcher, a
Mr. Innis, and Mr, Manly proceeded to Guildhall to prefer an information
with regard to the forgery against Dr. Dodd and Mr. Robertson. Mr.
Kobertson was without difficulty secured ; and then Fletcher, Innis, and
Manly, accompanied by two of the lord mayor's officers, went to the house
of the doctor in Argyle-street, whither he had recently removed.
Upon their explaining the nature of their business to him, he appeared
much struck and affected, and declared his willingness to make any repara-
tion in his power. Mr. Manly told him that his instantly retiirning the
money was the only mode which remained for him to save himself; and he
immediately gave up six notes of 5001. each, making 3000^., and he drew
on his banker for 500/, more. The broker then returned 100/. and the
doctor gave a second draft on his banker for 200/., and a judgment on his
goods for the remaining 400/. All tliis was done by the doctor in full
reliance on the honour of the parties that the bond should be returned to
him cancelled ; but, notwithstanding this restitution, he was taken before
the lord mayor, and charged with the forgery. The doctor declared that
he had no intention to defraud Lord Cliesterfield or the gentlemen who
advanced the money, and hoped that the satisfaction he had made in return-
ing it would atone for his offiiuce. He was pressed, he said, exceedingly for
300/. to pay some bills due to tradesmen, and took this step as a temporary
resource, and would have repaid the money in half a year. " My Lord
Chesterfield," added he, " cannot but have some tenderness for me as my
pupil. I love him, and he knows it. There is nobody wishes to prosecute.
I am sure my Lord Chesterfield don't want my life, — I hope he will show
clemency to me. Mercy should triumph over justice." Clem.ency, how-
ever, was denied ; and the doctor was committed to the Compter in prepa-
ration for his trial. On the 19th of February, Dr. Dodd, being put to the
bar at the Old Bailey, addressed the Court in the following words : —
" My lords, — I am informed that the bill of indictment against me has
been found on the evidence of ]Mr. Robertson, who was taken out of
Newgate, without any authority or leave from your lordships, for the
purpose of procuring the bill to be found. Mr. Robertson is a subscribing
witness to the bond, and, as I conceive, would be swearing to exculpate
himself if he should be admitted as a witness against me ; and as the bill
has been found upon his evidence, which was surreptitiously obtained, I
*ubmit to your lordships that I ought not to be compelled to plead on this
indictment ; and upon this question I beg to be heard by my counsel. I
beg leave also further to observe to your lordships, that the gentlemen on
the other side of the question ai'e bound over to prosecute Mr. Robertson.'
Previously to the arguments of the counsel, an order which had been
surreptitiously obtained from an officer of the court, dated "Wednesday,
February 19, and directed to the keeper of Newgate, commanding him to
carry Lewis Robertson to Hicks's Hall, in order to his giving evidence
before the grand inquest on the present bill of indictment — as well as a
resolution of the Court, reprobating the said order — and also the recogni-
280 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAK.
zance entered into by Mr. Manly, Mr. Peach, ]Mr. Innis, and tlie Riglit
Hon. the Earl of Chesterfield to prosecute and give evidence against Dr.
Dodd and Lewis Robertson for forgery — were ordered to be read ;
and the clerk of the arraigns was directed to inform the Court whether
the name " Lewis Robertson" was indorsed as a witness on the back of the
indictment, which was answered in the afiirmative.
The counsel now proceeded in their arguments for and against the
prisoner. Mr. Howarth, one of Dr. Dodd's advocates, contended that no
person ought to plead or answer to an indictment, if it appeared upon the
face of that indictment that the evidence upon whicji the bill was found
was not legal, or competent to have been adduced before the grand jury.
Mr. Cooper and Mr. BuUer, on the same side, pursued the same line of
argument with equal ingenuity, and expressed a hope that Dr. Dodd
would not be called upon to plead to an indictm !nt found upon such evi-
dence as had been pointed out, but that the indictment would be ordered
to be quashed.
The counsel for the prosecution advanced various arguments in oppo-
sition to those employed on the other side, and the learned judge having
taken a note of the objection, it was agreed that the trial sliould proceed,
the question of the competency of Mr. Robertson as a witness being
reserved for the consideration of the twelve judges.
The doctor was then arraigned upon the indictment, which charged
him in the usual terms with the forgery upon the Earl of Chesterfield ;
and the evidence in proof of the facts above stated having been given, the
Court called upon the prisoner for his defence. He addressed the Court
and jury in the following terms : —
" My lords and gentlemen of the jury, — Upon the evidence which has
this day been produced against me, I find it very difiicult to address your
lordships. There is no man in the world who has a deeper sense of the
heinous nature of the crime for which I stand indicted than myself:
I view it, my lords, in all its extent of malignancy towards a commercial
state like ours ; but, my lords, I humbly apprehend, though no lawyer,
that the moral turpitude and malignancy of the crime always, both in the
eye of the law and of religion, consists in the intention. I am informed,
my lords, that the act of parliament on this head runs perpetually in this
style, icith an intention to defraud. Such an intention, my lords and
gentlemen of the jury, I believe, has not been attempted to be proved
upon me, and the consequences that have happened, which have appeared
before you, sufiiciently prove that a perfect and ample restitution has been
made. I leave it, my lords, to you and the gentlemen of the jury to
consider, that if an unhappy man ever deviates from the law of right, yet
if in the single first moment of recollection he does all that he can to make
a full and perfect amends, what, my lords and gentlemen of the jury, can
God and man desire further ? My lords, there are a variety of little
circumstances too tedious to trouble you with, with respect to this matter.
Were I to give loose to my feelings, I have many things to say which
I am sure you would feel with respect to me ; but as it appears on all
hands, that no injury, intentional or real, has been done to any man
living, I hope that you will consider the case in its true state of clemency.
I must observe to your lordships, that though I have met with all
candour in this court, yet I have been pursued with excessive cruelty ;
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 281
I liave been prosecuted after the most express engagements, after the most
solemn assurances, after the most delusive, soothing arguments of Mr.
Manly ; I have been prosecuted with a cruelty scarcely to be paralleled.
A person avowedly criminal in the same indictment with myself has been
brought forth as a capital witness against me ; a fact, I believe, totally
unexampled. My lords, oppressed as I am w^th. infamy, loaded as I am
with distress, sunk under this cruel prosc-ciiion, your lordships and the
gentlemen of the jury cannot think life a matter of any value to me. No,
my lords, I solemnly protest, that death of all blessings would be the
most pleasant to me after this pain. I have yet, my lords, ties which call
upon me — ties which render me desirous even to continue this miserable
existence. I have a wife, my lords, who, for twenty-seven years, has
lived an unparalleled example of conjugal attachment and fidelity, and
v/hose behaviour during this trying scene would draw tears of approbation,
I am sure, even from the most inhuman. My lords, I have creditors,
honest men, who will lose much by my death. I hope, for the sake of
justice towards them, some mercy will be shown to me. If, upon the
whole, these considerations at all avail with you — if, upon the most
impartial survey of matters, not the slightest intention of injury can appear
to any one — (and I solemnly declare it was in my power to replace it in
three months — of this I assured Mr. Robertson frequently, and had his
solemn assurances that no man should be privy to it but ]Mr. Fletcher and
himself) — and if no injury was done to any man upon earth, I tlien hope,
1 trust, I fully confide myself in the tenderness, humanity, and protection,
of my country."
The jury retired for about ten minutes, and then returned with a verdict
that " the prisoner was guilty ;" but at the same time presented a petition,
humbly recommending the doctor to the royal mercy.
It was afterwards declared that upon the reserved point, the opinion of
the judges w^as, that he had been legally convicted. On the last day of
the sessions Dr. Dodd was again put to the bar to receive judgment.
The clerk of the arraigns then addressed him, saying,
" Dr. William Dodd, you stand convicted of forgery, what have you to
say why this court should not give you judgment to die, according to law ?"
In reply Dr. Dodd addressed the court as follows :— c-
" My lord, — I new stand before you a dreadful example of human
infirmity. I entered upon public life with the ovpfctations common to
young men whose education has been liberal, and whose abilities have
been flattered; and, when I became a clergyman, i considered myself as
not impairing the dignity of the order. I was not an idle, nor, I hope,
an useless minister : I taught the truths of Christianity with the zeal
of conviction and the authority of innocence.
" My labours were approved, my pulpit became popular, and I have
reason to believe that, of those who heard me, some have been preserved
from sin, and some have been reclaimed. Condescend, my lord, to think,
if these considerations aggravate my crime, how much they must embitter
my punishment ! Being distinguished and elevated by the confidence
of mankind, I had too much confidence in myself; and, thinking my
integrity — what others thought it — established in sincerity, and fortified
by religion, I did not consider the danger of vanity, nor suspect the
deceitfulness of mine own heart. The day of conflict came, in which
VOL. I. o o
282 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
temptation seized and overwhelmed me I I committed the crime, which
I entreat your lordship to believe that my conscience hourly represents
to me in its full bulk of mischief and malignity. Many have been over-
})owered by temptation, who are now among the penitent in heaven ! To
an act now waiting the decision of vindictive justice I will now presume
to oppose the counterbalance of almost thirty years (a great part of the
life of man) passed in exciting and exercising charity — in relieving such
distresses as I now feel — in administering those consolations which I now
want. I will not otherwise extenuate my offence than by declaring, what
I hope will appear to many, and what many circumstances make probable,
that I did not intend finally to defraud : nor will it become me to appor-
tion my own punishment, by alleging that my sufterings have been not
much less than m.y guilt; I have fallen from reputation which ought
to have made me cautious, and from a fortune which ought to have given
me content. I am sunk at once into poverty and scorn ; my name and
my crime fill the ballads in the streets ; the sport of the thoughtless, and
the triumph of the wicked ! It may seem strange, my lord, that, remem-
berinw what I have lately been, I should still wish to continue what I am !
but contempt of death, how speciously soever it may mingle with heathen
virtues, has nothing in it suitable to Christian penitence. Many motives
impel me to beg earnestly for life. I feel the natural horror of a violent
death, the imiversal dread of imtimely dissolution. I am desirous to
recompense the injury I have done to the clergy, to the world, and to
religion, and to efface the scandal of my crime, by the example of my
repentance : but, above all, I wish to die with thoughts more composed,
and calmer preparation. The gloom and confusion of a prison, the
anxiety of a trial, the horrors of suspense, and the inevitable vicissitudes
of passion, leave not the mind in a due disposition for the holy exercises
of praver and self-examination. Let not a little life be denied me, in
which I may, by meditation and contrition, prepare myself to stand at the
tribunal of Omnipotence, and support the presence of that Judge, who
sliall distribute to all according to their works : who will receive and
pardon the repentinw sinner, and from whom the merciful shall obtain
mercy ! For these reasons, my lords, amidst shame and misery, I yet
wish to live ; and most humbly implore, that I may be recommended by
your lordship to the clemency of his majesty."
Here he sunk down overcome with mental agony, and some time
elapsed before he was sufficiently recovered to hear the dreadful sentence
of the law, which the Recorder pronounced upon him in the following
words :
" Dr. William Dodd,
" You have been convicted of the offence of publishing a forged and
counterfeit bond, knowing it to be forged and counterfeited ; and you
have had the advantage which the laws of this country afford to every
man in your situation, a fair, an impartial, and an attentive trial. The
jury, to whose justice you appealed, have found you guilty; their verdict
has undergone the consideration of the learned judges, and they foiind no
ground to impeach the justice of that verdict; you yourself have admitted
the justice of it ; and now the very painful duty that the necessity of the
law imposes upon the court, to pronounce the sentence of that law against
you, remains only to be performed. You appear to entertain a very proper
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 283
sense of the enormity of the offence which you have comTnitted ; yon
appear, too, in a state of contrition of mind, and, I doubt not, have duly
reflected how far the dangerous tendency of the offence you have been
guilty of is increased by the influence of example, in being committed by
a person of your character, and of the sacred function of which you are
a member. These sentiments seem to be yours ; I would wish to cultivate
such sentiments ; but I would not wish to add to the anguish of your
mind by dwelling upon your situation. Your application for mercy must
be made elsewhere ; it would be cruel in the court to flatter you ; tliere is
a power of dispensing mercy, where you may apply. Your own good
sense, and the contrition you express, will induce you to lessen the influ-
ence of the example by publishing your hearty and sincere detestation of
the offence of which you are convicted ; and will sliow you that to attempt
to palliate or extenuate it, would indeed add to the influence of a crime
of tills kind being committed by a person of your character and known
abilities. I would therefore warn you against anything of that kind.
Now, having said this, I am obliged to pronounce the sentence of the
law, which is — That you, Doctor AVilliam Dodd, be carried from hence
■k> the place frum whence you came ; that from thence you be carried to
the place of execution, and that there you be hanged by the neck until you
are dead." To this Dr. Dodd replied, "Lord Jesus, receive my soul!"
and was immediately conveyed frcm the bar.
Great exertions were now made to save Dr. Dodd. The newspapers
were filled with letters and paragraphs in his favour ; individuals of all
»-anks exerted themseVes in his behalf ; the members of several charities
which had been benefited by him joined in application to the throne for
mercy; parish oflicers went in mourning from house to house, to procure
subscriptions to a petition to the king ; and this petition, which, with the
names of nearly thirty thousand persons, filled twenty-three sheets of
parchment, was actually presented. Even the lord mayor and common
council went in a body to St. James's, to solicit mercy for the convict.
These v,-ere, however, of no avail. On the loth of June the privy council
assembled, and deliberated on the cases of the several prisoners then under
condemnation; and in the end a warrant was ordered to be made out for the
execution of Dr. Dodd, with two others (one of whom was afterwards re-
prieved), on the 27th of the same month.
Having been flattered with the hopes of a pardon, he appeared to be
much shocked at the intimation of his approaching destiny ; but resumed
in a short time a degree of fortitude sufiicient to enable him to pas? through
the last scene of his life with firmness and decency. On the 26th he took
leave of his wife and some friends, and he afterwards declared himself ready
to atone for the oft'ence he had given to the world. His deportment was
meek, humble, and devout, expressive of resignation and contrition, and
calculated to inspire sentiments of respect for his person, and concern for his
unhappy fate.
He was attended to the fatal spot, in a mourning-coach, by the Rev. JMr.
Villette, Ordinary of Newgate, and the Rev. Mr. Dobey. Another cri-
minal, named John Harris, was executed at the same time. It is impos-
sible to give an idea of the immense crowds of people that thronged the
streets from Newgate to Tyburn. When the prisoners arrived at the fatal
tree, and were placed iu the cart, Dr. Dodd exhorted his fellow sufferer in
284 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
SO generous a manner, as testified tliat be had not forgotten his duty as a
clergyman ; and \w was also very fervent in the exercise of his own devo-
tions. Just before he was turned off, he was observed to whisper to the
executioner; and, although we have not the means of ascertaining the pre-
cise purport of his remark, it is pretty obvious from the fact, that as soon
as the cart had been drawn away from the gibbet, he ran immediately
under the scaffold and tool? hold of the doctor's legs as if to steady his body,
and the unfortunate gentleman appeared to die without pain.
Of his behaviour before execution a particular account was given by Mr.
Villette, Ordinary of Newgate, in the following terms: —
" On the morning of his death I went to him, with the Rev. Mr. Dobey,
Chaplain of the Magdalen, whom he desired to attend him to the place of
execution. He appeared composed; and when I asked him how he had
been supported, he said that he had had some comfortable sleep, by which
he should be the better enabled to perform his duty.
"As we went from his room, in our way to the chapel, we were joined
by his friend, who had spent the foregoing evening with him, and also by
another clergvman. When we were in the Vestry adjoining the Chapel,
he exhorted his fellow-sufterer, who had attempted to destroy himself, but
had been prevented by the vigilance of the keeper. He spoke to him with
great tenderness and emotion of heart, entreating him to consider that he
had but a short time to live, and that it was highly necessary that he, as'
well as himself, made good use of their time, implored pardon of God under
a deep sense of sin, and looked to that Lord by whose merits alone sinners
can be saved. He desired me to call in the other gentlemen, who likewise
assisted him to move the heart of the poor youth ; but the Doctor's words
were the most pathetic and effectual. He lifted up his hands, and cried
out ' Oh ! Lord Jesus, have mercy upon us! and give, oh! give unto him,
my fellow sinner, that, as we suffer together, we may go together to
Heaven!' His conversation to this poor youth was so moving, that tears
flowed from the eyes of all present.
" When we went into the chapel to prayer and the holy communion,
true contrition and warmth of devotion appeared evident in him through-
out the whole service. After it was ended, he again addressed himself to
Harris in the most moving and persuasive manner, and not without effect;
for he declared that he was glad that he had not made away with himself,
and said he was easier, and hoped he should now go to Heaven. The
Doctor told him how Christ had suffered for them; and that he himself was
a greater sinner than he, as he had sinned more against light and convic-
tion, and therefore his guilt was greater; and that as he was confident that
mercy was shown to his soul, so he should look to Christ and trust in his
merits.
" He prayed God to bless his friends who were present with him, and to
give his blessinor to all his brethren the clergy; that he would pour out his
spirit upon them, and make th^m true ministers of Jesus Christ, and that
they mi slit follow the divine precepts of their heavenly Master. Turning
to one who stood near him, he stretched out his hand, and said, ' Now,
my dear friend, speculation is at an end; all must be real! What poor igno-
rant beings we are!' He prayed for the jMagdalens, and wished they were
there, to sing for him the 23d Psalm.
" After he had waited some time for the officers, he asked what o'clock
THE NEAV NEWGATE CALENDAR. 285
it was; and, being told that it was half an hour after eight, he said ' I wish
they were ready, for 1 long to be gone/ He requested of his friends, who
were in tears about him, to pray for him; to which he was answered, by
two of them, ' We pray more than language can utter.' He replied, ' I
believe it.'
" At length he was summoned to go down into a part of the yard which
is enclosed from the rest of the gaol, where the two unhappy convicts and
the friends of the doctor were alone. On his seeing two prisoners looking
out of the windows, he went to them, and exhorted them so pathetically,
that they both wept abundantly. He said once, ' I am now a spectacle
to men, and shall soon be a spectacle to angels.'
" Just before the sheriff's officers came with the halters, one who was
walking with him told him that there was yet a little ceremony he must
pass through before he went out. He asked ' What is that?' ' You
will be bound.' He looked up, and said, ' Yet I am free; my freedom
is there,' pointing upwards. He bore it with Christian patience, and be-
yond what might have been expected; and, when the men* oftered to ex-
cuse tying his hands, he desired them to do their duty, and thanked them
for their kindness. After he was bound, I oflPered to assist him with my
arm in conducting him through the yard, where several people were
assembled to see him; but he replied, with seeming pleasure, ' No, I am as
lirm as a rock.' As he passed along the yard, the spectators and prisoners
wept and bemoaned him; and he, in return, prayed God to bless them.
" On the way to execution he consoled himself in reflecting and speaking
on what Christ had suffered for him; lamented the depravity of human
nature, which made sanguinary laws necessary; and said he could gladly
have died in the prison-yard, as being led cut to public execution tended
greatly to distress him. He desired me to read to him the 3 1st Psalm, and
also pointed out an admirable penitential prayer from ' Rossell's Pri-
soner's Director.' He prayed again for the king, and likewise for the
people.
" When he came near the street where he formerly dwelt he was much
affected, and wept. He said, probably his tears would seem to be the
effect of cowardice, but it was a weakness he could not well help; and
added, he hoped he was going to a better home.
" When he arrived at the gallows he ascended the cart, and spoke to his
fellow-sufferer. He then prayed, not only for himself, but also for his wife,
and the unfortunate youth that suffered with him; and, declaring that he
died in the true faith of the Gospel of Christ, in perfect love and charity
with all mankind, and with thankfulness to his friends, he was launched
iuto eternity, imploring mercy for his soul for the sake of his blessed
Redeemer."
A paper, of which the following is a copy, had been delivered by Dr
Dodd to Mr. Villette to be read at the place of execution, but was omitted
as it seemed impossible to make all present aware of its contents.
" To the words of dying men regard has always been paid. I am brought
hither to suffer death for an act of fraud, of which I confess myself guilty
* " It was done in the passage leading to the cbapel, by order of Mr. Akerman, the keeper,
to prevent his being gazed at; to wnom he desired I would returu his sincere thanks for all his
civilities to him, even to the last."
286 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR,
with shame, such as my former state of life naturally produces, and I hope
with such sorrow as He, to whom the heart is known, will not disregard.
I repent that I have violated the laws hy which peace and confidence are
established among men ; I repent that I have attempted to injure my fellow-
creatures ; and I repent that I have brought disgrace upon my order, and
discredit upon religion : but my offences against God are without number,
and can admit only of general confession and general repentance. Grant,
Almighty God, for the sake of Jesus Christ, that my repentance, however
late, however imperfect, may not be in vain !
" The little good that now remains in my power is to warn others against
those temptations by which I have been seduced. I have always sinned
aorainst conviction ; my principles have never been shaken; I have always
considered tlie Christian religion as a revelation from God, and its divine
Author as the Saviour of the world; but the laws of God, though never
disowned by me, have often been forgotten. I was led astray from religious
strictness by the delusion of show and the delights of voluptuousness. I
never knew or attended to the calls of frugality, or the needful minuteness
of painful economy. Vanity and pleasure, into which I plunged, required
expense disproportionate to my income; expense brought distress upon me;
and distress, importunate distress, urged me to temporary fraud.
" For this fraud I am to die; and I die declaring, in the most solemn
manner, that, however I have deviated from my own precepts, I have
taught others, to the best of my knowledge, and with all sincerity, the true
way to eternal happiness. My life, for some few unhappy years past, has
been dreadfully erroneous; but my ministry has been always sincere. I
have constantly believed; and I now leave the world solemnly avowing
mv conviction, that there is no other name under Heaven by which we can
be saved but only the name of the Lord Jesus; and I entreat all Avho are
here to join with me in my last petition, that, for the sake of that Lord
Jesus Christ, my sins may be forgiven, and my soul received into his ever-
lasting kingdom.
" June 27, 1777." " William Dodd."
The body of the Doctor was on the Monday following carried to Cowley,
in Buckinghamshire, and deposited in the church there.
During the doctor's confinement in Newgate (a period ot several months)
he chiefly employed himself in writing various pieces, which show at once
his piety and talent. The principal of these were his "Tlioughts in Prison,"
in five parts, from which we cannot doubt but that our readers, in finish-
incr our life of so eminent, yet unfortunate, a man, will be gratified by the
insertion of a few short extracts. " I began these Thoughts," says the un-
happy man, writing in Newgate, under date of the 28d of April, 1777,
after his condemnation, " merely from the impression in my mind, without
plan, purpose, or motive, more than the situation of my soul.
" I continued thence on a thoughtful and regular plan ; and I have been
enabled wonderfully, in a state which in better days I should have sup-
posed would have destroyed all power of reflection, to bring them nearly to
a conclusion. I dedicate them to God, and the reflecting serious among
my fellow- creatures; and I bless the Almighty for the ability to go tlirouoh
them amidst the terrors of this dire place (Sewgate), and tlie bitter anguish
of my disconsolate mind! The thinking will easily pardon all inaccura-
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 287
cies, as I am neither able nor willing to read over these melancholy lines
with a curious or critical eye. They are imperfect, but in the language of
the heart; and, had I time and inclination, might, and should be, im-
proved.— But
(Signed; " W. D."
The unfortunate author's Thoughts on his Imprisonment are thus in
troduced: —
" My friends are gone! harsh on its sullen hinge
Grates the dread door: the massy bolts respond
Tremendous to the surly keeper's touch :
The dire keys clang, with movement dull and slow,
While their behest the ponderous locks perform:
And, fasten'd firm, the object of their care
Is left to solitude — to sorrow left.
" But wherefore fasten'd ? Oh ! still stronger bonds
Than bolts, or locks, or doors of molten brass.
To solitude and sorrow could consign
His anguish'd soul, and prison him, though free!
For whither should he fly, or where produce
In open day, and to the golden sun.
His hapless head ! wiience every laurel torn,
On his bald brow sits grinning infamy:
And all in sportive triumpli twines around
The keen, the stinging arrows of disgrace."
After dwelling on the miseries of that dreary confinement, at sight ol
which he formerly started back with horror, he adds,
" O dismal change ! now not in friendly sort
A Christian visitor, to pour the balm
Of Christian comfort in some wretch's ear —
I am that wretch myself! and want, much want,
That Christian consolation I besLow'd;
So cheerfully bestovv'd! Want, want, my God,
Fiom thee the mercy, which, thou know'st my gladsome socil
Ever sprang forth with transport to impart.
" Why then, mysterious Providence, pursued
With such unfeeling ardour? Why pursued
To death's dread bourn, by men to me unknown!
Why — stop the deep question ; it o'erwhelms my soul :
It reels, it staggers! Earth turns round! My brain
Whirls in confusion ! My impetuous heart
Throbs with pulsation not to De restraiu'd ;
Why ? — Where ? — O Chesterfield, my son, my soq I"
The unfortunate divine afterwards thus proceeds : —
" Nay, talk not of composure! I had thought
In older time., that my weak heart was soft,
And pity's self might break it. I had thought
That marble-eyed Severity would crack
The slender nerves which guide my reins of sense.
And give me up to madness! 'Tis not so;
My heart is callous, and my nerves are tough;
It will noi, break; they will not crack; or else
What more, just heaven ! was wanting to the daeij
288 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
Than to behold — Oh! that eternal night
Had in that moment screened from myself!
My Stanhope to behold ! Ah! piercing sight!
Forget it; 'tis distraction : speak who can!
But I am lost ! a criminal adjudged !"
It is not a little singular that Dr. Dodd, a few years before his death,
published a Sermon, intitled, " The frequency of capital punishments in-
consistent with justice, sound policy, and religion." This, he says, was
intended to have been preached at the Chapel-royal, at St. James's; but
omitted on account of the absence of the court, during the author's month
of waiting.
The following extract will show the unfortunate man's opinion on this
subject, although there is no reason to suppose that he then contemplated
the commission of the crime for which he suffered. He says,
" It would be easy to show the injustice of those laws which demand
blood for the slightest offences; the superior justice and propriety of in-
flicting perpetual and laborious servitude; the greater utility hereof to the
sufferer, as well as to the state, especially wherein we have a variety of
necessary occupations, peculiarly noxious and prejudicial to the lives of the
honest and industrious, and in which they might be employed, who had
forfeited their lives and their liberties to society."
THOMAS HORNER AND JAMES FRYER,
EXECUTED FOR BURGLARY.
The offence of these prisoners was attended by circumstances of great
daring. From the evidence adduced at their trial, which took place at the
Old Bailey Sessions in the month of April, 1778, it appeared that on the
eveninor of the 1st of ]\Iarch, the prisoners, with three other men, were seen
at Finchley together, and that while drinking in a public-house they made
many inquiries of the persons present with regard to the house and family
of a Mr. Clewen, a gentleman of respectability who resided in the neigh-
bourhood. On the same night, between twelve and one o'clock, Mr
Clewen's house was entered by five persons, whose faces were disguised,
and the noise created by their rushing up stairs being heard by Miss
(Jlewen and her servant, they immediately ran out of their bed-chambers
to see what was the matter. They were forced to return, however, and
three of the men having entered their room, compelled them to cover their
heads with the bed-clothes, uttering loud threats in case of their offering
any resistance. The men-servants, who slept at the top of the house, being
now alarmed, the thieves proceeded to their apartment, and one of them
named Quick having got up, he received a severe blow with an iron bar,
and, like his mistress, was compelled, with his fellows, to cover himself up
wdth the bed-clothes. Two fellows then remained to watch them, while
the rest went to Mr. Clewen's room, and treated him in the same manner,
and then they proceeded to the bed-chamber of his son, whom they forced
to go to his father's bed, holding his hands before his eyes, so that he
ehould not distinguish who were his assailants. They then ransacked the
house, and in about half-an-hour returned, saying that if young Clewen
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 289
would tell thorn where the money was, they would give him his watch,
which they had taken from under his pillow, but this being refused, tliey
went away, sayino- that they were only going for some victuals, and would
return. The house was then immediately examined by Mr. Clewen ; and
it was found that the thieves had effected an entrance by means of the
back-door, and that they had fastened up that as well as the front entrance
by nailino- staples over the locks. It was afterwards discovered that they
had carried off twenty-two guineas, fifty pounds in bank notes, a quantity
of plate, several gold rings, a silver watch, and other property to a consi-
derable amount. Information of the robbery was immediately conveyed
to Sir John Fielding, whose officers, recognising the offenders from the
description given of their persons, succeeded in securing the prisoners :
Fryer at a small house which he occupied in the City Road, where there
wi're found a number of picklock keys, and a hanger ; and Horner at his
lodgings in Perkins' Rents, Westminster, a cutlass being concealed under
his bed. Two supposed accomplices, named Condon and Jordan, were also
apprehended, but nothing distinct being proved against them they escaped;
Jordan, however, being afterwards convicted for a second burglary in
Copenhagen House, for which he received sentence of death.
Conviction having followed the production of this evidence, sentence of
death was passed. Upon the sacrament being administered to Horner and
Fryer, they admitted their guilt, and were executed at Tyburn on the
24th of June, 1778. The other offenders were subsequently also appre-
hended and executed.
THE REY. JAMES HACKMAN.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
The case of this unfortunate gentleman was long the topic of genera)
conversation. Pamphlets and poems were written on the subject ; and the
fate of Mr. Hackman was generally pitied, as it was conceived that he was
the victim of an insane love — a conclusion which will now be the more
readily arrived at when the circumstances under which the murder, of
which he was found guilty, was committed are considered.
It appears that JMr. Hackman was born at Gosport in Hampshire, and
was originally designed for trade, in which his father was engaged. It
was found, however, that his disposition was of too volatile a nature to
admit of his success in any business ; and his parents, willing to promote
his interests to the extent of their power, purchased for him a commission
as ensign in the 68th regiment of foot. He had not been lonof in the
service before he was entrusted with the command of a recruiting party,
and going to Huntingdon, in pursuance of his instructions, he there became
known to the Earl of Sandwich, who had a seat in the neighbourhood, and
by whom he was frequently invited to dinner. It appears that he now
.first became acquainted with the object of his passion, and the victim of
his crime.
Miss Reay was the daughter of a staymaker in Covent Garden, and
served her apprenticeship to a mantuamaker, in George's-court, St.
John's lane, Clerkenwell. She was bound when only thirteen; and
iiiring her apprenticeship was taken notice of by the nobleman above
VOL. I p p
290 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR
mentioned, who took her under his protection, and treated her with every
mark o^ tenderness. At the time of her being introduced to Mr. Hackman,
she had lived witli her noble protector during a period of nineteen years,
and in the course of that time had borne him nine children ; but although
she was nearly twice the age of Mr. Hackman, no sooner had he seen her
than he became violently enamoured of her.
It was while he was tormented by this unhappy and ungovernable
passion that he found that any hopes which he might entertain of prefer-
ment in the army were not likely to be realised, and he determined to turn
his thoughts to the church. In pursuance of this design he took orders,
and he obtained the living of Wiverton, in Norfolk, only about Christmas
preceding the shocking deed which cost him his life.
How long he had been in London previous to this affair is not certainly
known ; but at the time of its occun-ence he lodged in Duke's-court,
St. Martin's-lane. On the morning of the 7th of Api'il, 1779, he sat for a
considerable time in his closet, reading " Blair's Sermons :" but in the
evening he took a walk to the Admiralty, where he saw Miss Reay go
mto the coach along with Signora Galli, who attended her. The coach
drove to Covent Garden Theatre, where the ladies stayed to seethe perform-
ance of " Love in a Village," and Mr. Hackman went into the theatre at
the same time ; but not being able to contain the violence of his passion,
he returned, and again went to his lodgings, and having loaded two pistols
went to the playhouse, where he waited till the play was over. Seeing
Miss Reay ready to step into the coach, he took a pistol in each hand, one
of which he discharged against her, which killed her on the spot, and the
other at himself, which, however, did not take effect. He then beat him-
self with the butt-end on his head, in order to destroy himself, so fully
was he bent on the destruction of both ; but after a struggle he was
secured, his wounds dressed, and then he was carried before Sir John
Fielding, who committed him to Tothillfields' Bridewell, and next to
Newgate, where a person was appointed to attend him, lest he should lay
violent hands on himself. In Newgate, as he knew he had no favour tc
expect, he prepared himself for the awful change which was about to take
place. He had dined with his sister on the day on which the murder was
committed, and in the afternoon he wrote a letter to her husband, Mr.
Booth, an eminent attorney, informing him of his intention to destroy
himself, and desiring him to sell what effects he had, in order to pay a
email debt which he owed ; but it appears that the letter was not
despatched, as it was found in his pocket.
The prisoner was indicted at the ensuing Old Bailey sessions, and it wa«
proved by Mr. MacNamara, that on AYednesday, the 7 th of April, he was
quitting the theatre, when seeing Miss Reay, with whom he was slightly
acquainted, he offered her his assistance in reaching her carriage. She
accepted his preferred arm, and just as they were in the piazza he heard
the report of a pistol, wheu he directly felt his arm compressed by the
lady's hand, and Sxia then immediately fell to the ground. He thought at
first that the lady had fallen from fright only, but on stooping to raise her
up, he found that his hand was bloody, and he then saw that she was
wounded. He immediately conveyed her into the Shakspeare Tavern,
whither the prisoner soon after followed in custody. He asked him some
questions about his reason for shooting Miss Reay, but the only answir
jhich he gave was, that that was not the place to satisfi' him. Tlif
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR- 291
prisoner afterwards said that his name was Hackman ; and he sent for
Mr. Booth, who lived in Craven-street. Other evidence was also adduced,
from which it appeared that the prisoner followed Miss Reay out of the
theatre, and having tapped her on the shoulder to attract her attention, he
suddenly drew two pistols from his pocket, one of wnich he discharged at
her and tlie other at himself. They both fell feet to feet, and the prisonei
then beat himself about the head, and called out for some one to kill him.
He was secured by a Mr. McMahon, who dressed his wounds, and
conveyed him to the Shakspeare Tavern, where ]\Iiss Reay almost imme-
diately afterwards died.
On his being called upon for his defence, the prisoner addressed the
Court in the following terras : — " I should not have troubled the Court
with the examination of Avitnesses to support the charge against me, had I
not thought that the pleading guilty to the indictment gave an indication
of contemning death not suitable to my present condition, and was, in some
measure, being accessory to a second peril of my life : and I therefore
thought that the justice of my country ought to be satisfied by suffering
my offence to be proved, and the fact established by evidence.
" I stand here this day the most wretched of human beings, and confess
myself criminal in a high degree ; yet while I acknowledge, with shame
and repentance, that my determination against my own life was formal and
complete, I protest, with that regard to truth which becomes my situation,
that the will to destroy her, who was ever dearer to me than life, was
never mine till a momentary frenzy overcame me, and induced me to commit
the deed I now deplore. The letter which I meant for my brother-in-law
after my decease will have its due weight as to this point with good men.
" Before this dreadful act I trust nothing will be found in the tenor of
nay life which the common charity of mankind will not excuse. I have no
wish to avoid the punishment which the laws of my country appoint for
my crime ; but being already too unhappy to feel a punishment in death
or a satisfaction in life, I submit myself with penitence and patience to the
disposal and judgment of Almighty God, and to the consequences of this
inquiry into my conduct and intention."
The following letter was then read : —
" My dear Frederic, — When this reaches you I shall be no more ; but
do not let my unhappy fate distress you too much : I have strove against
it as long as possible, but it now overpowers me. You well know where
my affections were placed : my having by some means or other lost hers
(an idea which I could not support) has driven me to madness. The world
will condemn me, but your good heart will pity me. God bless you, my
dear Frederic ! ^\^ould I had a sum to leave you to convince you of my
great regard ! You was my only friend. I have hid one circumstance
from you which gives me great pain. I owe Mr. Knight of Gosport one
hundred pounds, for which he has the writings of my houses ; but I hope
in God, when they are sold and all other matters collected, there will be
nearly enough to settle our account. May Almighty God bless you and
yours with comfoi't and happiness ; and may you ever be a stranger to the
pangs I now feel ! May Heaven protect my beloved woman, and forgive
this act,, which dlone could relieve me from a world of misery I have long
endia'cd ! Oh ! if it should ever be in your power to do her an act of
friendship, rem.eraber your faithful friend, " J. Hackman."
292 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
Tlie jury immediately returned their fatal verdict. The unhappy man
heard the sentence pronounced against him with calm resignation to his
fate, and employed the very short time allowed murderers after conviction
in repentance and prayer.
During the procession to the fatal tree at Tyburn he seemed much
affected, and said but little ; and when he arrived at Tyburn, and got out
of the coach and mounted the cart, he took leave of Dr. Porter and the
Ordinary in the most affectionate manner.
After some time spent in prayer, he was turned off, on April the 19th
1779 ; and having hung the usual time, his body was carried to Surgeons
Hall for dissection.
JAMES DONALLY.
EXECUTED FOR ROBBERY.
This offender was one of a class of the most mischievous and most
daring robbers ; and the case which we have to relate, is one of a most
atrocious nature, — the extortion of money by means of threats to charge
the person imposed upon with a detestable crime, an offence which, we
regret to say, has been but too prevalent in later years.
In the month of February, 1779, James, alias Patrick Donally, was
indicted at the sessions held at the Old Bailey, for " that he, on the king's
highway, in and upon the Honourable Charles Fielding, did make an
assault, putting him in corporeal fear and danger of his life, and did steal
from his person, and against his will, half-a-guinea, on the 18th of
January :" and there was also a second count, which imputed to him
a similar offence on the 20th of the same month, in robbing the prosecutor
of a guinea.
From the evidence adduced, it appeared that the prosecutor was the
second son of the Earl of Denbigh. Between six and seven o'clock on the
evening of the 18th of January, he was going from the house of a lady, with
whom he had dined, to Covent Garden Theatre, when, on passing through
Soho-square, the prisoner came up to him and demanded some money.
Mr. Fielding was surprised at this address, and requested to know upon
what ground he applied to him ; upon which the prisoner immediately
said, that if he did not comply, he would take him before a magistrate,
and impute to him the commission of a foul crime. Terrified by the
insinuation, he handed half-a-guinea to him, which was all the money
then in his possession, and returning to the house which he had just
quitted, he borrowed half-a~guinea of the servant, in order that he might
pursue his original intention of going to the theatre. On the 20th of the
same month he was in Oxford-road, when the prisoner again accosted him,
and saying that he could not have forgotten what passed the other night
in Soho-square, declared that he must have money, or else, that he
would follow up the intention which he had before expressed, and added
that he knew it would go hard with him, unless he could prove an alibi.
Mr. Fielding at this time was without money, but going to Mr. Waters,
a grocer in Bond-street, he borrowed a guinea from him, which, under the
influence of fear, he handed to the prisoner. On the 12th February, a
third attempt at extortion was made by the prisoner ; but in this instance,
THE NEW MSWGATE CALENDAR. 293
jwlng to the great resemblance between Mr. Fielding and his brother
Lord Fielding, he mistook the latter for the former ; Lord Fielding wan
on Hay-hill, when the prisoner accosted him in terms implying that he
had seen him before. His lordsliip, however, expressed himself at a loss to
know what he meant, when he asked him if he did not remember giving
him a half-guinea in Soho-square, and a guinea at the grocer's in Bond-
street ? Lord Fielding utterly denied all recollection of either affair, and
said that the prisoner sliould go before a magistrate to explain his meaning.
The prisoner assented, and they proceeded together in the direction of
Bow-street ; but they had not gone many paces before the prisoner held
back, and said that he would go no further. Lord Fielding became rather
alarmed, and, being terrified by the prisoner's threats, he allowed him to
escape. On the Tuesday following, however, as he was passing near the
same spot, a voice, which he recognised as that of the prisoner, called out,
" My Lord, I have met you again," and the prisoner at the same time
coming from behind liim, his Lordship seized him by the collar; the
prisoner declared that he had been used ill when he last saw his Lordship,
upon which the latter declared that he had used him too well, and would
take care now that he should not get away again.
Donally now desired to be treated like a, gentleman^ saying he would not
be dragged, but would go quietly, and Lord Fielding, not seeing any
person who was likely to assist him, and apprehending a rescue, told him
that, if he would walk along quietly to the next coffee-house, he would
not drag him. They walked down Dover-street together ; but tlie prisoner
increasing his pace. Lord Fielding followed, and seized him. He fell down
twice, but was again seized as soon as he arose.
By this time a crowd was assembled ; Major Hartly, and two other
gentlemen, happened to come by, and with their aid, the prisoner waa
secured, and conveyed to Bow-street, where tlie magistrates, on hearing
the evidence, thought that tlie crime amounted to a highway robbery, and
committed liim for trial accordingly.
Donally in his defence, acknowledged that he had met Lord Fielding
twice ; that he had addressed him with decency, and desired him to hear
something respecting his brother ; and that Sir John Fielding had made
the Honourable Charles Fielding carry on the prosecution. He did not
deny the receipt of the guinea at the grocer's in Bond-Street ; but averred
that he did not deserve death on account of the charge against him.
The jury, having considered the whole evidence, brought in a verdict of
" Guilty ;" but Mr. Justice Buller, before whom the offender was tried,
reserved the case for the opinion of the judges on a point of law.
On the 29th of April, 1779, the judges met, and gave their opinion on
this case, pronouncing it a new species of robbery to evade the law, but
which was not to be evaded; and the prisoner therefore underwent its sen-
tence, which he had, with most abominable wickedness, brought upon his
own head.
Another diabolical villain of tliis description, named John Staples, was,
on the 6th of December, 1779, hanged at Tyburn, for extorting money
from Thomas Harris Crosby, Esq. by charging him with an abominable
crime.
294 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
MORGAN PHILLIPS.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER AND ARSON
The case of this malefactor so strongly resembles that of a person named
Edward Morgan, an account of whose crime we have already given, thac
we are induced to hope, for the sake of humanity, that some mistake has
arisen in describing them as separate offences.
The crime for which the person whose case we are now considering,
most justly suffered, was attended with extraordinary acts of cruelty.
The inhabitants of Narbeth, a small village in the county of Pembroke,
were, in the middle of one night in the month of March, 1779, alarmed
with the appearance of fire bursting from a farm-house near the turnpike.
Before they could render assistance the house was nearly razed to the
ground, and the family were missing. On examining the ruins the
remains of the owner, Mr. Thomas, an old and respectable farmer, were
found on a bench in a leaning posture, but so much burnt that it was
impossible to determine whether he had been first murdered, or had
perished by the flames.
Proceeding in the search, the next unhappy victim found was his niece,
a fine young woman of about thirty years of age, whose body lay across
the feet of a half burnt bedstead, with a thigh broken, and an arm missing.
Among the ruins of another room was discovered the body of a labouring
man, much burnt, but with a large wound on the back of his head, from
which much blood had issued ; and Mrs. Thomas' servant-woman, who
was exceedingly robust, was also found dead at the entrance of one of the
rooms, with several deep wounds in her head, and her hair clotted with
l)lood. Her body was not so much burned as the others ; and near her
was discovered a large kitchen spit, half bent, with which it was conjec-
tured she had opposed the murderers, for there could now be no doubt
that the horrid scene which presented itself was the work of some person
who, for the sake of plundering the house, had massacred its inhabitants
and had then fired the premises, in order to conceal his bloody crimes. Sf
horrible a deed excited universal attention, and every means was taken to
secure its author.
A man named -John Morris, a lazy, worthless character, who had been
already in custody upon other charges, was apprehended on suspicion of
being concerned in the affair; but he effectually put an end to all hopes
of eliciting any information from him by throwing himself into a coal-pit,
in spite of the efforts of the constables, in whose care he was, to restrain
him, where his mangled remains were afterwards found. At length sus-
picion fell on Morgan Philips, and he, finding the general belief to be that
he was guilty of this most horrible crime, at length confessed that he and
Morris had been its perpetrators ; that they had broken into the house
of the farmer, and having murdered the family, from whom they met with
considerable resistance, they had carried off all the valuable property which
they could find, and had then set fire to the farm to prevent discovery.
The prisoner being put upon his trial at Haverfordwest, his confession
was read to him, and assented to as being true ; and its leading points
being corroborated by other witnesses, he was found guilty, and suffered
death t the same place on 5th April, 1779.
^^/A^.Jum^curf^^uo^ ■
THE JITiW NEWaATC, CALKNDAIi. 295
JAMES MATHISON.
EXECUTED FOR FORGERY.
This offender was tried on Thursday, the 20th of May, 1779. There
perhaps never appeared in any court of justice so ingenious a man in his
style as this person. His practice for some time past had been to go to
the Bank, and take out a note ; this he counterfeited, passed the copy,
and, after some time, returned the original. His frequent applications at
length exciting suspicions, which were increased by his appearance in life,
and other circumstances, he was taken up. When brought before Justice
Fielding, he was there known to be the person charged with forgeries upon
the bank at Darlington. The particular forgery now charged on him was
for making and uttering a note for payment of twenty pounds, with intent
to defraud Mr. Mann, of Coventry, and the Bank of England. The note
was produced in court, and the witnesses were brought to prove its having
been negotiated by him.
This fact being established, the next circumstance in consideration was
to prove that the note was absolutely a counterfeit one. This his prose-
cutors were totally unable to do by any testimony they could adduce, so
minutely and so dexterously had he feigned all the different marks. The
note itself was not only so made as to render it altogether impossible for
any himian eyes to perceive a difference; but the very hands of the cashier
and the entering clerk were also so counterfeited as entirely to preclude
a positive discrimination even by tliose persons themselves. The water-
mark in the paper, too, namely, " Bank of England," which the bankers
had considered as an infallible criterion of fair notes, a mark which could
not be resembled by any possible means, was also hit off by this man, so
as to put it out of the power of the most exact observer to perceive a
difference. Several paper-makers were of opinion that this mark must
have been put on in the making of the paper ; but Mathison declared that
he put it on afterwards by a peculiar method, known only to himself.
The extreme similitude of the fair and false notes had such an effect upon
the judge and jury that the prisoner would certainly have been discharged,
for want of evidence to prove the counterfeit, if his own information, taken
at Fielding's, had not been produced against him, which immediately
turned the scale, and he was found guilty.
He was executed at Tyburn, pursuant to his sentence, on July 28th
1779. At the place of execution he make a speech which took up some
minutes 5 wherein he acknowledged his guilt, and hoped for forgiveness
from the Almighty. He also warned others to avoid the crime for which
he suffered, and forgave his prosecutors.
THE RIOTS OF LONDON.
BEGIUNING ON THE 2n1) JUNE, 1780, WITH THE EXECUTION OF THE RIOTERS.
The history of London, from its earliest epoch, exhibits the occurrence
of no event of a more calamitous nature, or more pregnant with mischief,
than the riots of 1780. A commotion so rapid, and so daring in its
progress, was perhaps never known. The sovereignty of the King, and
the safety of the property of the subiect. rested on laws which were
296 THE NEW XEWGA.TE CALENDAR.
unsupported ; the magistrates were confessedly intimidated ; and all good
and loyal citizens were seized with a terror and j^anic, which were alone
dispelled by the restoration of tranquillity through the instrumentality of
the military force.
The origin of the riot is ascribed to the passing of an act of Parliament,
about two years previously, for " relieving his majesty's subjects, of the
Catholic Religion, from certain penalties and disabilities imposed upon
them during the reign of William III." A petition to Parliament was
framed for its repeal, and a general meeting of a body of people, forming
the Protestant Association, headed by Lord George Gordon, was held on
the 29th JMay, at the Coachmakers' Hall, Noble-street, Aldersgate-street.
At this meeting the noble lord moved the following resolutions.
" Whereas no hall in London can contain forty thousand persons,
" E.esolved,^That this association do meet on Friday next in St.
George's-fields, at ten o'clock in the morning, to consider the most prudent
and respectful manner of attending their petition, which will be presented
the same day to the House of Commons.
"Resolved, — For the sake of good order and regularity, that this asso-
ciation, in coming to the ground, do separate themselves into four divisions,
viz. — the London division, the Westminster division, the Soutliwark
division, and the Scotcli division.
'' Resolved, — That the London division do take place of the ground
towards South wark ; the Westminster division second ; the Southwark
division third ; and the Scotch division upon the left, all wearing blue
cockades, to distinguish themselves from the papists, and those who
approve of the late act in favour of popery.
" Resolved, — That the magistrates of London, Westminster, and South-
wark, are requested to attend ; that their presence may overawe and con-
trol any riotous or evil-minded persons who may wish to disturb the legal
And peaceable deportment of his majesty's subjects."
His lordship having intimated that he would not present the petition
unless twenty thousand persons attended tlie meeting, and the resolutions
having been published and placarded through the streets, on the day
appointed a vast concourse of people from all parts of the City and its
environs assembled in St. George's-fields. The main body took their route
over London-bridge, marching in order, six or eight in a rank, through
the City towards Westminster, accompanied by flags bearing the words
" No Popery." At Charing-Cross, the mob was increased by additional
numbers on foot, on horseback, and in various vehicles, so that by the
time the different parties met together, all the avenues to both houses of
Parliament were entirely filled with the crowd. The rabble now took
possession of all the passages leading to the House of Commons, from the
outer doors to the very entrance for the members ; which latter they twice
attempted to force open ; and a like attempt was made at the House of
Lords, but without success in either instance. In the meantime, Lord
George Gordon came into the House of Commons with an unembarrassed
countenance, and a blue cockade in his hat, after " riding in the whirlwind
and directing the storm ;" but finding it gave offence he took it out and
put it in his pocket ; not however before Captain Herbert, of the navy,
one of the members, threatened to pull it out ; while Colonel Murray,
another member, declared that, if the mob broke into the house, he
(looking at Lord George) should instantly be the victim.
I
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 297
iTie petition having been presented, the populace separated into pai-ties,
and proceeded to deniohsh the Catholic chapels, in Duke -street, Lincoln's
Inn Fields, and Warwick -street, Golden-square; and all the furniture,
jrnaments, and altars of both chapels were committed to the flames.
After various other outrages, the prison of Newgate was attacked. They
demanded from the keeper, Mr. Ackerman, the release of their confined
issociates : he refused to comply ; yet, dreading the consequence, he went
40 the sheriffs to know their pleasure. On his return he found his house
in flamL'S ; and the jail itself was soon in a similar situation. The doors
i;nd entrances were broken open with crowbars and sledge-hammers ; and
it .8 scarcely to be credited with what rapidity this strong prison was
destroyed. The public office in Bow-street, and Sir John Fielding's house,
niljoining were presently destroyed, and all their furniture and effects,
books, papers, &c. committed to the flames. Justice Coxe's house in
Great Queen -street, Lincoln's Inn Fields, was similarly treated ; and the
two prisons at Clerkenwell set open, and the prisoners liberated. The
King's Bench Prison, with some houses adjoining, a tavern, and the New
Bridewell, were also set on fire, and almost entirely consumed.
The mob now appeared to consider themselves as superior to all autho-
rity ; they declared their resolution to burn all the remaining public
prisons ; and demoash the Bank, the Temple, Gray's Inn, Lincoln's Inn,
the Mansion House, the royal palaces, and the arsenal at Woolwich. .
The attempt upon the Bank of England was actually made twice in the
course of one day ; but both attacks were but feebly conducted, and the
rioters easily repulsed, several of them falling by the fire of the military,
and many others being severely wounded.
To form an adequate idea of the distress of the inhabitants in every part
of the city would be impossible. Six-and-thirty fires were to be seen
blazing in the metropolis during the night.
At length the continued arrival of fresh troops, from all parts of the
country, within fifty or sixty miles of the metropolis, intimidated the
rabble ; and soon after the disturbances were quelled.
The Royal Exchange, the public buildings, the squares, and the prin-
cipal streets, were all occupied by troops; the shops were closed; while
immense volumes of dense smoke were still rising from the ruins of con-
sumed edifices.
During the riots, many persons, territied by the alarming outrages of
the mob, fled from London, and took refuge at places at a considerable
distance from town. The following account was written by Dr. Johnson
to Mrs. Thrale, who had gone into the country for safety; and may not
prove uninteresting. The doctor was an eye-witness to many of the
scenes which he depicts: —
" On Friday, the '2d of June, the good Protestants met in St. George's
Fields, at the summons of Lord George Gordon, and, marching to West-
minster, insulted the Lords and Commons, who all bore it with great tame-
ness. At night the outrages began by the demolishing the JMass-house
near Lincoln's Inn.
" On Monday, Mr. Strahan, who had been insulted, spoke to Lord
Mansfield, who had been insulted too, of the licentiousness of the popu-
lace; and his lordship treated it as a very slight irregularity.
" On Tuesday night they pulled down Fielding's house (the public office
vot. 1. 2 Q,
298 TUE >;ew newgate calendar,
in Bow-street), and burnt his goods in the street. They had gutted, on
Monday, Sir George Saville's house; but the building was saved. On Tues-
day evening, leaving Fielding's ruins, they went to Newgate, to demand
their companions, who had been seized for demolishing the chapel. The
keeper could not release them but by the mayor's permission, which he
went to ask. At his return he found all the prisoners released, and New-
gate in a blaze. They then went to Bloomsbury, and fixed upon Lord
Mansfield's house, which they partly pulled down; and, as for his goods,
they totally burnt them. They went to Caen Wood (his lordship's coun-
try-seat); but a guard was there before them. They plundered several
Papists, and burned a Mass-house, and some dwelling-houses inMoorfields,
the same night.
" On AVcdncsday I walked with Dr. Scott, to look at Newgate, and
found it in ruins, with the fire yet glowing. As I went by, the Protes-
tants were plundering the Sessions House at the Old Bailey. There was
not, I believe, a hundred; but they did their work at leisure, in full secu-
rity, without sentinels, and without trepidation, as men lawfully employed
in full day. Such is the cowardice of a commercial place!
" On Wednesday they broke open the Fleet Prison, the King's Bench
and Marshalsea Prisons, Wood-street Compter, and Clerkenwell Bride-
well. At niffht they set fire to the Fleet and the King's Bench, and I
know not how many other places; and one might see the glare of confla-
gration fill the sky from many parts. — The sight was dreadful. Some
people were threatened : Mr. Strah an advised me to take care of myself.
Such a time of terror you would have been happy in not seeing.
" The kino- said in council ' That the magistrates had not done their
duty, but that he would do his own;' and a proclamation was published,
directing us to keep our servants within doors, as the peace was now to be
preserved by force.
" The soldiers were sent out to difierent parts, and the town is now quiet.
They are stationed so as to be everywhere within call; theie is no longer
any body of rioters, and the individuals are hunted to their holes, and led
to prison: Lord George Gordon was last night sent to the Tower.
" Mr. -John Wilkes was this day in my neighbourhood, to seize the pub-
lishers of a seditious pamphlet.
" Several chapels have been destroyed, and several inoSensive Papists
have been plundered: but the high sport was to burn the gaols. This was
a good rabble trick. The debtors and the criminals were set at liberty;
but of the criminals, as has always happened, many are already retaken;
and two pirates have surrendered themselves, and it is expected they will
be pardoned.
" Government now acts with its proper force; and we are all now again
under the protection of the king and the law. I thought it would be agree-
able to you to have my testimony to the public security; and that you
would sleep more quietly when I told you that you were safe.
" There has been, indeed, an universal panic, from which the king was
the first that recovered. Without the concurrence or assistance of his mi-
nisters, or even the assistance of the civil magistrates, he put the soldiers
in motion, and saved the town from calamities such as a rabble's govern-
ment must naturally produce.
" The public has escaped a very heavy calanalty. The rioters attempted
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 299
the Bank on Wednesday niglit, but in no great numbers; Jack "Wilkes
headed the party that drove them away. It is agreed, that if they had
seized the Bank, on Tuesday, at the height of the pause, when no resist-
ance had been prepared, they might have carried away whatever they had
found."
The number of persons killed in this di-eadful riot is variously stated.
j\Iany persons, strangers to the attempt, were destroyed by the necessarily
indiscriminate fire of the soldiers and militia; and although it is impossible
to calculate the precise number who lost their lives, from the circumstance
of many being carried off by their friends, it is believed to be about 500.
Lord George Gordon, the leader and instigator of these riots, was sub-
sequently tried in the Court of King's Bench, and by some good fortune
escaped conviction. Tliere was little doubt that he was occasionally sub-
ject to aberrations of intellect. His death took place some years after-
wards in the King's Bench Prison. He had been indicted for a libel on
Marie Antoinette, the late unfortimate French queen, and the Count
d'Ademar, one of the ministers of state, and having been convicted, fled
from punishment ; and was afterwards apprehended in Birmingham, attired
in the garb of a Jew, witli a long beard, &c., where he had undergone cir-
cumcision, and had embraced the religion of the unbelievers. He died
professing the same faith.
Many of the rioters were apprehended, and having been recognised, were
convicted, and suffered deatli in most instances opposite to tlie places in
which the scenes were enacted, in which they were proved to have taken
a part. Among them were many women and hnv; but there was not one
individual of respectability or character. They were all of the lowesu
class, whose only object was plunder.
Among the rioters, to sum up the account of their infamy and wretch-
edness, was -Jack Ketch himself. This miscreant, whose real name was
Edward Dennis, was convicted of pulling down the house of 3Ir. Boggis,
of New Turnstile. The keeper of TothiU-fields' Bridewell would not suffer
Jack Ketch to go among the other prisoners, lest they should tear him to
pieces. In order that he might hang up his brother rioters, he was granted
a pardon !
The following is an extract from the king's speech to both houses of par-
liament, the 18th of June, soon after the riots were ended: —
" My Lords and Gentlemen, — The outrages committed by bands of law-
less and desperate men, in various parts of this metropolis, broke forth with
such violence into acts of felony and treason, had so far overborne all civil
authority, and threatened directly the immediate subversion of all legal
power, the destruction of all property, and the confusion of every order of
the state, that I foimd myself obliged, by every tie of duty and affection to
my people, to suppress, in every part, those rebellious insurrections, and to
provide for the public safety by the most effectual and immediate applica-
tion of the force entrusted to me by parliament. I have directed copies of
the proclamations issued upon that occasion to be laid before you.
" Proper orders have been given for bringing the authors and abettors of
these insurrections, and the perpetrators of such criminal acts, to speedy
trial, and to such condign punishment as the laws of their country pre-
scribe, and the vindication of public justice demands.
*' Though I trust it is not necessary, yet I think it right, at this time, to
300 TUE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
renew to you my solemn assurances that I have no otlier object but to
make the laws of the reahii, and the principles of our excellent constitu-
tion in Church and State, tlie rule and measure of my conduct; and that I
shall ever consider it as the first duty of my station, and the chief glory of
ray reign, to maintain and preserve the established religion of my king-
doms, and, as far as in me lies, to secure and to perpetuate the rights and
liberties of my people."
ABRAHAM DURNFORD AND WILLIAM NEWTON.
EXECUTED FOR ROBBERY.
In the case of these men we present a species of robbery diflFerent in the
plan of its commission from every one yet described.
It was proved, on their trial at the Old Bailey, that they hired an
empty house, No. 21, Waier-lane, Fleet-street; and, having a bill of ex-
change lying at the bank of Smith, Wright, and Gray, they directed it for
payment at this house. They made preparation for cleaning, in order, as
they pretended, to furnish it with despatch; but the landlord, not liking
this extraordinary haste, or his new tenants, desired Mrs. Boucher, the
mistress of a public-house opposite, to have an eye on their proceedings.
Accordingly, on the day the bill became due, being the 5th of August,
1780, she observed the new tenants, Durnford and Newton, then prisoners
at the bar, enter the house, and open the parlour windows. Soon after sh«
saw a third man knock at the door, which was open, and he entered.
AVatching the event, she heard an uncommon noise, and, stepping over
the way to listen, heai'd the cry of " Murder!" as from a hoarse faint voice,
succeeded by a kind of groaning, which very much alarmed her; and, look-
ing through the key-hole, she saw tvt'O men dragging a third down the
cellar stairs; on which she cried out loudly " They're murdering a man! "
She knocked hard at the door, and begged the people in the street to
break it open; but none would interfere. Being enraged at their not
assisting her, she burst open the window, and was entering the house, when
Newton jumped out of the one pair of stairs' window, and was running
off; but, on the cry of " Stop thief!" he was instantly taken; ]\Irs. Bou-
cher seized the other by the throat herself, and dragged him to her own
house.
The house was then immediately searched, and in a back cellar was
found a man, bound, and nearly choked to prevent his calling out. He
proved to be a collecting clerk for Smith, Wright, and Gray, named James
Watts. They had robbed him of his pocket-book, and would have
murdered him had not the woman saved his life.
My. Watts, a young Quaker, aged eighteen, the party robbed and alluded
to, would not, according to the doctrines of the particular sect to which he
belonged, be sworn, which is required by the law in all cases, so that
their conviction rested chiefly on the evidence of ^Nlrs. Boucher ; but not
a shadow of a doubt existed of theu- guilt, and they were convicted and
executed on the 22nd of November, 1760.
The story of Mr. Watts was that on his knocking at the door, he was
admitted immediately, and having entered the house he was collared and
seized by two men, whom he afterwards knew to be the prisoners, who
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 301
attempted to gag him, and forced him down stairs. Fearing that their
intention was to murder him, he succeeded in getting from them by an
extraordinary effort, and ran to the street-door ; but finding it locked he
was unable to offer any further opposition to their violence. His screams
providentially alarmed Mrs. Boucher, but not until his book, containing
upwards of 4000^. had been taken from him. It is rather singular that
Mr. Watts was himself convicted of robbing his employers in the year
1781. and subjected to two years' imprisonment.
FRANCIS HENRY DE LA MOTTE.
EXECUTED FOR HIGH TREASON.
The offence of this man was one of the most despicable character. A
native of France, and in the service of the French king, he lived long in
London, employing himself as a spy upon the proceedings of the English
government. He occupied elegant lodgings in Bond-street, dressed like a
gentleman, kept the best company, and passed for a foreigner of fortune.
At length, however, suspicions arose of his real character, and a watch
being set upon his motions, they were found to be fully justified, and he
was apprehended and committed to the Tower.
On his trial various acts of treason were proved against him, and he was
found guilty.
Sentence was immediately pronoimced upon him, " that he should be
hanged by the neck, but not until he was dead ; that he should then be cut
down, and his bowels taken out and burnt before his face ; and that his
head should betaken off, his body cut into four quarters, and be placed at
his majesty's disposal."
He was remanded to the Tower, and at the expiration of a fortnight a
warrant was issued from the office of the secretary of state for his execu-
tion.
The sheriffs demanded his body, on the 27th of July, 1781, of the lieute-
nant of the Tower, and carried him to Newgate , from thence in about a
quarter of an hour they set out with him to Tyburn.
La Motte was dressed in a suit of black. His deportment was manly
and S( rious : he seemed to be totally abstracted from the surrounding
multitude, as he scarcely ever took his eyes from a devotional book which
he held in his hand.
Upon his arrival at the fatal tree he was immediately removed from the
sledge in which he had been conveyed. He then employed some miniJt+:!S
in earnest devotion ; after which he twice bowed respectfully to the sheriffs,
and turned to the executioner, desiring him immediately to perform his
office.
After hanging fifty-seven minutes the body was cut down and laid on a
block, when (a fire having been previously kindled) the executioner severed
the head from the trunk, and making an incision from his breast, ripped
out the heart, which, after being exposed to the surrounding spectators,
was thrown into the flames.
The body was then scorched, together with the head, and put into a
very handsome coffin, which was delivered to an undertaker for interment.
302 THE XEAV NEWGATE CALENDAK.
Amongst other effects of the handiwork of La ]Motte "ai favour of his
own country, it is said that the attack of a French fleet under the command
of Commodore Suffrein upon the British fleet under Commodore Johnstone,
in the neutral harbour of Port Praya Road, on its way to the East Indies,
whither it was convoying a number of merchantmen, was attributable to
him. The English fleet was taken in an unexpected manner. As many as
one thousand five hundred of its men are related to have been on shore at
the time of the attack ; some of whom were employed in collecting water,
and otlicrs in obtaining exercise, when the Frenchmen hove in sight ; and
before the necessary arrangements could be made to receive them, forced
their way in line into the very midst of the British vessels. Commodore
Johnstone, however, with the bravery of a British sailor, succeeded in
compelling them to sheer off ; but not until he had sustained a loss of
upwards of two hundred men. The movements and strength of the English
fleets were at that time made no secrets ; and La Motte, having obtained
the necessary information in the instance in question, conveyed it to his own
country through the medium of one Luttorlok, a Dutchman, who succeeded
in efiecting his escape, while his companion in iniquity suffered an ignomi-
nious death.
JOHN DOXELLAN, ESQ..
EXKCUTKD FOR THE MURDER OF SIR THEODOSIUS BOCGHTOy, BART., HIS
BRO'iMER-IN-LAW.
The case of Mr. Donellan is one of a very remarkable nature, and from
the character of the testimony produced has been the subject of much
conversation and remark amongst persons connected with the professions of
medicine and chemistry.
The accused, Mr. Donellan, had been a captain in the army, and was
the son of Colonel Donellan. At the age of twelve years he entered into
the Royal Regiment of Artillery, with part of which he went to the East
Indies in 1754. On his arrival there he changed his service into the 39th
foot ; but on that regiment being ordered home, lie, with many other of
his oflicers, had his majesty's leave to remain in the service of the East
India Company, without prejudice to their rank in the army. He then
obtained a company, and certainly distinguished himself as a good soldier,
not only having been much wounded in the service, but, if his own accouui
maybe credited, being singularly instrumental to the taking of Mazulapatam.
Being appointed, however, one of the four agents for prize-money, he conde-
scended to receive presents from some black merchants, to whom part of
their eifects had been ordered to be restored, for which he was tried by a
court-martial, and cashiered. He subsequently purchased a share in the
Pantheon, where he figured for some time as master of the ceremonies ;
and after a variety of applications he at length obtained a certificate from
the War-oflice, that he had behaved in the East Indies " Hke a gallant
officer ; " in consequence of which he was put upon half-pay in the 39th
regiment. But notwithstanding the most strenuous memorials and peti-
tions representing his great services, and insisting that the ofi'ence for which
he was broke was of a civil nature only, cind not cognizable by a couil-
martial, he never could obtain a restoration into the Company's service
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAlf. 803
In June, 1777, he married Miss Boughton ; and on Friday, IMarch 30th,
1781, he was tried at the assizes at Warwick for the wilful murder of Sir
Theodosius Edward Allesley Boughton, Bart., his brother-in-law. The
evidence was of such a nature that the fairest mode of stating it will be by
repeating It as it appeared on the trial.
i\Ir. Powell, apothecary of Rugby, deposed that he had attended Sir
Theodosius Boughton for two months before his death, on account of a
slight complaint of a certain description.
On Vf ednesday morning, the 27th of February, he was sent for to
Lawton Hall, and on his arrival there at a little before nine o'clock, Capt.
Donellan conducted him to the apartment of Sir Theodosius. On his
entering, he perceived that the baronet was dead, and on his examining the
body he concluded that it was about an hour since life had fled. PIo
had some conversation with Captain Donellan with regard to the deceased,
and he was told by him that he had " died in convulsions.'' He could not
recollect the precise nature of the conversation, but the general eifect of
what Captain Donellan said was, that the deceased gentleman had taken
cold.
Lady Boughton, the mother of the deceased, deposed that Su" Theodosius
was twenty years old on the 3rd of August last. On his coming of age,
he would have been entitled to above 2000^. a year ; and in the event of
his dying a minor, tlie greater part of his fortune was to descend to his
sister, the wife of Mr. Donellan. It was known in the family on the
evening of Tuesday, the 26th, that Sir Theodosius was to take his physic
the next morning. He used to put his physic in the dressing-room. He
happened once to omit to take it ; upon which Mr. Donellan said, '■'■ Why
don't you set it in your outer room ? then you would not so soon forget
it." After this he several times put the medicines upon his shelf over the
chimney-piece in his outer room. On the evening of Tuesday, the 26th, about
six o'clock, Sir Theodosius went out fishing, attended only by one servant,
Samuel Frost. Witness and Mrs. Donellan took a walk in the garden,
and were there above an hour. To the best of her recollection she had
seen nothing of Mr. Donellan after dinner till about seven o'clock, when he
came out of the house-door in the garden, and told them that " he had been
to see them fishing, and that he would have persuaded Sir Theodosius to
come in, lest he should take cold, but he could not." Sir Theodosius came
home a little after nine, apparently very well ; and he went up into his
own room soon after, and went to bed. He requested her to call him the
next morning and give him his physic.
She accordingly went into his room about seven in the morning, when
he appeared to be very well. She asked him " Where the bottle was ? "
and he said " It stands there upon the shelf." He desired her to read the
label, which she accordingly did, and found there was written upon it
" Purging draught for Sir Theodosius Boughton." As he was taking it,
he observed, " it smelled and tasted very nauseous ;" upon which she said
'' I think it smells very strongly like bitter almonds." He then remarked
that " he thought he should not be able to keep the medicine upon his
itomach."
Here a bo+tle was delivered to Lady Boughton, containing the genuine
draught, which she was desired to sjnell at, and inform the Court whether
It smelt like the medicine Sir Theodosius took She answered in the
304 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
negative. She was then desired to smell at another, containing the draught
with the addition of laurel-water, wliich she said had a smell very mucli
like tliat of tlio medicine she gave to Sir Theodosins. Lady Boiighton then
proceeded witli her evidence. In two minutes after Sir Theodosius had
taken the draught, he struggled very much. It appeared to her as if it
was to keep tlie drauglit down. He made a prodigious rattling in his
stomach, and guggling ; and these symptoms continued ahout ten minutes.
He then seemed as if he was going to sleep, or inclined to dose ; and
perceiving him a little composed, she went out of the room. She returned
in about five minutes after, and to her great surprise found him with his
eyes fixed upwards, his teeth clenched, and foam running out of liis mouth.
She instantly desired a servant to take the first horse he could get and go
for ]\Ir. Powell. She saw Mr. Donellan in less than five minutes after, lie
came into the room where Sir Theodosius lay, and said to her, "What do you
want ? " She answerered that she wanted to inform him what a terrible
thing had happened ; that it was an imaccoi;ntable thing in the doctor to
send such a medicine, for if it had been taken by a dog it would have
killed him ; and she did not think her son would live. He inquired in
what way Sir Theodosius then was ; and on being told, he asked her where
the physic bottle was ; on which she showed him the two draughts ; when
he took lip one of the bottles, and said, " Is this it ? " She answered " Yes."
He then, after rinsing it, emptied it in some dirty water that was in a wash-
hand basin ; and on his doing so she said, " What are you at ? you should
not meddle with the bottles." Upon that he snatched up the other bottle
and rinsed it, and then he put his finger to it and tasted it. She repeated
that he ought not to meddle with the bottles; upon which he replied, that
" he did it to taste it. ' Two servants, named Sarah Blundeli and Catherine
Amos, afterwards came into the room, and he desired the former to take
away the basin and the bottles, and he put the bottles into her hands.
The witness, however, took the bottles from her, and set them down,
bidding her not to touch them ; and the prisoner then desired that the
room might be cleaned, and tlie dirty clothes thi'own into the inner room.
This being done, the witness turned her back for a moment, on which the
prisoner again handed the servant the bottles, and bid her take them away,
and she accordingly removed them. Witness soon afterwards went intc
the parlour, where she found ]\Ir. and IMrs. Donellan ; and the former told
his wife " that her mother had been pleased to take notice of his washing
the bottles, and that he did not know what he should have done, if he had
not thought of saying that he put tlie water into them to put his finger
to it to taste." The witness made an answer to this observation, and
the prisoner directed his wife to ring the bell in order to call up the servant.
When the servant came, he ordered him to send in the coachman ; and
when he came, the prisoner said, " Will, don't you remember that I set
out of these iron gates at seven o'clock this morning ? " " Yes, sir," said
he. " And that was the first time of my going out ; I have never been on
the other side of the house this morning : you remember that T set out
there this morning at seven o'clock, and asked for a horse to go to the
wells ? " " Yes, sir." ]Mr. Donellan said, " then you are my evidence."
Tlie servant answered, " Yes, sir." She did not recollect that the prisoner
made any observation. The witness further said that Jlr. Donellan
received a letter from Sir William Wheeler, desiring the body might he
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 305
opened, and thai he showed her his answer to this letter. She told him he
had hetter let it alone, and not to send snch a letter as that ; but she
did not tell him the reason of her disliking it. He replied, that " it was
necessary to send an answer, and he would gend that." She afterwards
attended before the coroner and tlie jury in order to be examined, when Mr.
Donellan also was present ; and she mentioned to the jury the circumstance
of the prisoner's rinsing the bottles. Being returned to Lawford Hall, the
prisoner said to his wife before the witness, that she had no occasion to
have told the circumstance of his washing the bottles : she was only to
answer such questions as were put to her ; and that question had not been
asked her. Being asked whether Mr. Donellan did not endeavour to
account to her for her son's death, she answered, that when the things were
removed in order to be put in tlie inner room, he said to the maid, " Here,
take his stockings ; they have been wet ; he has catched cold, to be sure :
and that might occasion his death," On that she examined the stockings,
and there was no mai'k or appearance of their having been wet. In answer
to some further questions, she denied that she or any of the family had
ever declined eating of the same dishes that Sir Theodosius did. Mr.
Donellan, indeed, had recommended to her not to drink out of the same
cup, because he was affected with a certain disorder ; nor to touch the
bread he did, because there might be arsenic about his fingers, as he used
that poison wlien he was fishing.
Catherine Amos corroborated the testimony of her mistress, and said,
that she was called up stairs to the room where Sir Theodosius lay, at
the time when the surgeons were engaged in opening the body, and she
heard Mr. Donellan say " that tliere was nothing the matter ; and that it
was a blood-vessel which broke, which had occasioned the death of his
brother-in-law." About a fortnight afterwards Mr. Donellan brought her
a still, which had been recently washed, and he desired her to put it into
the oven to dry, in order that it might not rust.
Mr. Kerr, surgeon of Northampton, deposed, that he attended Sir
Theodosius when he was at Mr. Jones's. His disorder was so slight that
he did not think it a subject of medicine at all. He ordered him some
lotion to wash with, and dissuaded him from the use of medicine.
Dr. Rattray, of Coventry, deposed, that in consequence of an anonymous
note which he received, and which desired him to bring Mr. Wilmer with
him, in order to open the body of Sir Theodosius Boughton, they went
together, and met Mr. Bucknell, Mr. Powell, and Mr. Snow, in Newbold
churchyard. Mr. Bucknell opened the body. The witness then pro-
ceeded to describe the external appearances of the body, and its appear-
ances in the dissecting. He was asked whether, as he had heard the
evidence of Mr. Powell and Lady Boughton, he could, from that evidence,
totally independent of the appearances he had described, form a judgment
as to the cause of the death of Sir Theodosius. He answered, that, exclu-
sive of these appearances, he was of opinion, from the symptoms that
followed the taking of the draught, that it was poison, and the certain
cause of his death. Being desired to smell at the bottle, and asked what
was the noxious medicine in it, he said it was a distillation of laurel -leaves,
called laurel-water. Here he entered into a detail of several experiments
on animals, tending to show the instantaneous and mortal effects of the
iaui-el-water. He knew nothing in medicine that corresponded in smell
VOL. I. R K
306 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAK.
with tliat mixture, which was like that of bitter ahrionds. lie further
said that the quantity of laurel-water contained in tlie bottle shown to
him was sufficient to be the death of any human creature ; and that tlie
appearances of the body confirmed him in his opinion that the deceased was
poisoned, so far as, upon the viewing a body so long after the death of the
subject, one could be allowed to form a judgment upon such appearances.
Mr. Wilmcr and Dr. Parsons, professor of anatomy at Oxford, confirmed
the evidence of Dr. Rattray
Dr. Ashe, of Birmingham, was of opinion, from the symptoms described,
tliat the deceased died by poison. If the laurel- water were distilled strong
enougli to collect the essential oil, a tea-spoonful of it would destroy ani-
mal life in a few seconds ; and he believed as strong a poison might be
made from bitter almonds.
Mary Lymnes deposed, that she had been servant to Lady Boughton.
Mr. Donellan was in the habit of distilling roses occasionally, and he kept
his still in an apartment which was called his room, and in which he slept
when Mrs. Donellan lay in.
Francis Amos, gardener to Lady Boughton, deposed, that he was with
Sir Theodosius the whole time he was fishing, the night before he died.
Mr. Donellan was not there. Two or three days after Sir Theodosius died,
he brought him a still to clean ; it was full of wet lime. He said he used
the lime to kill fleas. The witness used to gather lavender for him to
distil. In the garden there were laurels, bays, and laurustinus.
William Crofts, one of the coroner's jury, deposed, that on the exami-
nation of Lady Boughton, when she said that " Captain Donellan rinsed
the bottle," he saw the captain catch her by the gown, and give her a
twitch,
John Darbyshire deposed, that he had been a prisoner in Warwick jai:
for debt ; that Mr. Donellan and he had a bed in the same room for a
month or five weeks. He remembered to have had a conversation witli
him about Sir Theodosius being poisoned. On his asking him whether
the body was poisoned or not, he said, " There was no doubt of it." The
witness said, " For God's sake, captain, who could do it ?" He answered,
" It was amongst themselves ; he had no hand in it." The witness asked,
*' Whom he meant by themselves ?" He said, " Sir Theodosius himself,
Lady Boughton, the footman, and the apothecary." The witness replied,
*' Sure, Sir Theodosius could not do it himself ! " He said he did not
think he did — he could not believe he would. The witness answered,
" ^he apothecary could hardly do it — he would lose a good patient ; the
tbotman could have no interest in it ; and it was unnatural to suppose
that Lady Boughton would do it." He then said, " how covetous Lady
Boughton was ! she had received an anonymous letter the day after Sir
Theodosius's death, charging her plump with poisoning him ; Uiat she
called him and read it to him, and she trembled ; she desired he would
not let his wife know of that letter, and asked him if he would give up his
riffht to the personal estate, and to some estates of about two hundred
pounds a year, belonging to the family." The conversation was about a
month after the captain came into the jail. At other times he said,
" that it was impossible he could do a thing that never was in his power."
This being the chief evidence, the prisoner in his defence pleaded a total
ignorance of the fact, and several respectable cnaracters bore testimony to
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 307
his inteorrity. The jury, however, found hun guilty, and he received sen-
tence of death.
At seven o'clock on the next day, the 2nd of April, 1781, he was carried
to the place of execution at AVarwick, in a mourning-coach, followed by a
hearse and the sheriff's officers in deep mourning. As he went on he
frequently put his head out of the coach, desiring tlie prayers of the people
around him.
On his arrival at the fiital spot he alighted from the coach, and, ascend-
ing a few steps of the ladder, prayed for a considerable time, and then
joined in the usual service with the greatest appearance of devotion : he
next in an audible tone of voice addressed the spectators to this effect : —
That, as he was then going to appear before God, to whom all deceit was
known, he solemnly declared that he was innocent of tlie crime for wliich
he was to suffer ; that he had drawn up a vindication of himself, wiiich
he hoped the world would believe, for it was of more consequence to him
to speak truth than falsehood, and he had no doubt but that time would
reveal the many mysteries that had arisen in his trial.
After praying fervently some time he let his handkerchief fall — a signal
agreed upon between him and the executioner— and was launched into
eternity. When the body had hung the usual time it was put into a black
coffin, and conveyed to the Town Hall to be dissected.
It is almost needless to inform our readers, that the poison with which
the unfortunate Sir Theodosius was murdered was prussic acid, at that
time only recently introduced and little known.
DAVID TYRIE.
EXECUTED FOR HIGH TREASON.
The charge against this malefactor was that of sending intelligence of
our naval affairs to France during the time of war. The prisoner was by
birth a Scotchman, and having lived as a clerk in the service of a Mr.
Powell for five years, he entered into business for himself, but was so far
unsuccessful as to be made a bankrupt. He siibsequently obtained a
situation in the Navy Office, Portsmouth, where he was most traitorously
guilty of the offence imputed to him.
He was tried at Winchester, by virtue of a special commission, on
the 1 0th of August, 1 78*-J, when the charge alleged against him was sup-
ported by the following testimony.
Maria Harvey proved that a bundle of papers, the property of Tyrie,
had been delivered to her by a Mrs. Askew, about the l;3th of February ;
that the particular charge given with them had raised her curiosity to
inquire into the contents of tlie bundle. Slie had been induced in conse-
quence to open them, and thinking that the contents were of a dangerous
nature, she carried them to a Mr Page, in Westminster, who being of the
same opinion, they were conveyed to the office of the secretary of state.
Tlie papers on being examined proved to be copies of papers called the
^ Navy Progresses ;" being a list of all the ships of the navy, the situation
and state of repair of each, &c. To these were added remarks on their
destination, a description of the dock-yards at Portsmouth, Plymouth, and
ul the public, and even of several private, docks. They also contained a
308 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
jilan, by which it was proposed to furnish a person in France with intelli-
jjcnce on very moderate terms, when the importance of the object was
considered ; the particuhars were, an express to be employed which would
travel four hundred and fifty miles, to be paid at thirteen pence per mile ;
a. monthly salary of five or six guineas to a person at each of the dock-
yards ; also a salary of two or three guineas to a man in the lesser yards.
Tljere were a number of other papers produced, all going to the purpose
of giving information to the enemies.
Captain William James also proved that Tyrie had bargained with him
to go to Boulogne to purchase wines. He had agreed to pay him fifteen
guineas in money for the voyage, and to provide him with a letter of cre-
dit for fifty pounds to trade with. Upon his being about to sail, the pri-
soner delivered to him a Dacket of letters for the commandant of the port,
and a passport for Boulogne or Cherbourg ; but feeling that it was not pro-
per to carry letters to the French coast in time of war, he consulted a Cap-
tain Harrison upon the propriety of doing so. The latter advised him
against it, and they opened the packet: it contained five letters, which gave
an account of the sailing of some frigates to intercept afleet of French trans-
ports ; a particular account of the departure of the East and West India
fleets, together with the names and strength of their respective convoys,
besides other important information of the same character. One of these
letters, it appeared, was signed by the prisoner, in his own name, and the
others in the name of Croix; and it was proved that the whole of them, as
well as the papers produced by Mrs. Harvey, were in his handwriting.
The case having been left to the jury for their consideration, they imme-
diately returned a verdict of guilty.
Mr. Justice Heath then passed upon the unhappy prisoner the sentence
of the law, which was the same as that in the case of La Motte, which has
very recently been alluded to, and which was subsequently carried out in
its fullest terms.
The prisoner behaved during his trial with remarkable composure, and
met his fate without any apparent emotion.
WILLIAM WYNNE RYLAND.
EXECUTED FOR FORGERY.
In the execution of this imhappy man, the world may be said to have sus-
tained a severe loss; for Mr. Ryland was an engraver of first-rate abilities,
and of very considerable celebrity. He was a native of Wales, and his
father having been patronised by the Welch baronet, Sir Watkin Williams
Wynne, he was named after that individual. While yet young, he dis-
played considerable talent, and in the early part of his apprenticeship he
engraved a head of his godfather in a style which betokened unusual taste
and power. Having completed his term, he visited the French and Italian
schools; and in the former obtained the honorary medal, which was pre-
sented to him in Paris. On his return to England, he introduced the ad-
mired art of engraving in imitation of chalk drawings ; and soon after
George HI. had ascended the throne, he was appointed by him to the situa-
tion of his engraver, with a salary of two hundred pounds a year; and the
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 309
queen added one hundred pounds a year more out of her privy purse, as a
testimony of her approbation of his extraordinary talents.
A few years previous to the fatal act for which lie suffered, Mr. Ryland
entered into partnership with a Mr. Bryer, and they jointly opened a shop
in Cornhill, where they carried on a very extensive trade in prints ; the
former still continuing to exercise his abilities in the art of engraving. But
although their business was productive of great profit, several heavy losses,
occuiTing almost at the same time, so deranged their pecuniary affairs,
that a bankruptcy ensued.
Some years after this failure, Mr. Ryland, on his own separate account,
opened a print-shop in the Strand, where he had every prospect of success;
but being fond of a private life, he quitted his business, and retired to
Pimlico, and thence to Knightsbridge, where, by one fatal act, he entirely
rained his reputation as a man; but his name, as an artist, will ever stand
in the highest estimation. At this time Mr. Ryland had recovered his
losses in trade, and was bequeathed shares in the Liverj)ool Water Works,
which were then deemed to be worth ten thousand pounds : his business
was worth two thousand pounds a year, and his stock was valued at ten
thousand pounds more. Such was his own statement of his property, in
his defence on his trial; and it was supposed that, in order to engross the
remaining shares in his Liverpool concern, he committed the forgery for
which he suffered.
The forged instruments so exactly resembled the real bills that it was
scarcely possible to know one from the other ; but it being discovered that
two bills of the same tenor and date were out. and consequently that one
of them must prove a forgery, suspicion fell so strong on Ryland that he
was induced to secrete himself, and a reward was offered for liis apprehen-
sion. He went in disguise to Stepney, and took an obscure lodging at the
hovel of one Richard Freeman, a cobbler, accompanied by Mrs. Ryland, the
wretched partner of his misfortune, passing as Mr. and Mrs. Jackson ; and
there he continued for some time to evade the search after him, till one
fatal step of the unfortunate woman who was watching over his safety
caused his apprehension. She took, unconscious of danger, one of her hus-
band's shoes to the cobbler to be mended, with the name of " Ryland" on
the inside of it. Tliis was fatal: the cobbler, in order to obtain the reward,
delivered up his lodger
When the officers of justice went to apprehend Ryland, they found him
in a corner of the room on his knees, and heard a noise like a guggling in
his tViroat, and upon approaching him they found that he had attempted
suicide. He had a razor in his hand, and a basin stood before him; but
the wound which he had inflicted did not prove mortal.
On the 20th July, 1 783, he was arraigned at the bar of the Old Bailey,
on an indictment charging him with feloniously forging and uttering a
certain bill of exchange for 2101. sterling, purporting to be a bill drawn
by the gentlemen of the factory at Fort George, ]\Iadras, on the Hon. East
India Company, with intent to defraud the said Company, &c.
The solicitor to the East India Company, who prosecuted the prisoner,
endeavoured, by several proofs, to bring home the charge to the accused;
but, though forgery was manifest, yet it was so nice a point to distinguish
the true bill from the false one, that it was, during the trial, supposed that
310 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
they could not convict him, until Mr. Whatman, paper-manufacturer at
Maidstone, appeared as a witness.
Mr. Whatman deposed that the paper of the forged bill was of his ma-
nufacture. He then explained to the Court his reasons for thinking so: the
moulds, he said, in which the paper of the bill was made, were received by
him in February, 1780, but were not used before the December following:
they were then worked with; and the first paper sent to London made by
them was on the 27th of April, 1781: but he was convinced that the
paper on which the bill was written was not sent before the 'Sd of May,
1782; and the way by which he knew it was, that there were defects in it,
which exactly agreed with those in the sheets of paper which he produced,
and which had been made by him at that period. It was further proved
that the instruments bore date antecedent to the time of the paper being
made ; and this evidence being conclusive, in spite of the j>risoner's argu-
ments that his fortune being ample he had no reason to commit the offence
imputed to him, he was found guilty.
He was executed at Tyburn on the 29th August, 1783, being the last
person who suffered by the hands of the executioner at that place.
CHRISTOPHER TRUSTY, AND OTHERS.
EXECUTED FOR RETURNING FROM TRANSPORTATION.
The year 1783 crowded the prisons of England to a degree never before
known, though the offences of the prisoners were not distinguished by any
particular enormity, and were generally devoid of that interest which enti-
tles them to a place in our Calendar.
Of these numerous offenders, one hundred and fifty were proceeding to
North America, on board the Swift transport, pursuant to their sentence,
when they rose on the captain and crew, in the Downs, on the 30th of
August, and, after confining them, got on shore at Deal, and all made their
escape.
On this intelligence reaching London, Mr. Justice Blackborow ordered
the constables attending at his ofiice to search for the fugitives in the dif-
ferent places of iniquitous resort. Having armed themselves each with
cutlasses, Redgrave, Season, and Isaacs, accordingly went to a house in
Onslow-street, Saffron-hill, where, in one room, they found five returned
transports, two of whom ran up stairs, and escaped by lowering themselves
from a back window, by means of the bed-clothes : but the others, arming
themselves, one with a poker, another with a shovel, and a third with a
clasp-knife, having a blade about six inches long, as with one voice, cried
out " Cut away! we shall be hanged, if taken; and we will die on the spot,
rather than submit!'' All expostulation proving fruitless, the officers at-
tempted to seize them, upon which a dreadful conflict ensued, and many
wounds were given and received, but at lengih the villains sun-endered, and
were conveyed before Mr. Blackborow for examination. Being asked by
the magistrate by what means they had procured tlieir liberty, they ac-
knowledged that they had run the ship on shore; adding, that to recover
their liberty was not difficult, as, in compassion of their sufterings, the
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. Sli
caotain permitted eighteen or twenty convicts to be upon deck at one time,
unfettered: that, on the third day of being thus indulged, they (the pri-
soners), and others who were upon deck, liberated the rest; and, having
confined the captain and crew, ran the vessel on the sands, and got nn
shore in the two long-boats: that no cruelty was exercised upon any part
of the crew, nor any property stolen from the vessel, except that some of
the convicts obliged the sailors to change clothes with them: that they
concealed themselves in hedges and ditches till night, and then took different
routes: that they collected half-a-crown among themselves, wliich they
gave to a countryman for conducting them to Rye, whence they walked
up to London, where they had arrived but a very short time before tliey
were apprehended.
In the September sessions, at the Old Bailey, Christopher Trusty, and
twenty-three others, were capitally convicted of the offence of being found
at large in this kingdom before the term for which they were ordered to be
transported had expired, and received judgment of death.
Six of the ringleaders, viz. Charles Thomas, William Matthews, Thomas
Millington, Christopher Trusty, David Hart, and Abraham Hyams, were
selected for immediate execution, and were hanged on the 22d of Septembei',
sentence having been passed upon them on the 20th.
No fewer than fifty-four prisoners received sentence of death on the
same day, in many of whose cases the extreme penalty of the law was
subsequently inflicted.
SAMUEL HARRIS AND JOHN NORTH.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
At the Admiralty sessions, held on the 1 1th of November, 1784, these
men were tried for the wilful murder of John M'Nier, one of the mariners
belonging to his majesty's cutter the Nimble, in the service of the Cus-
toms.
On the trial it appeared that on the night of the 30th of April last, it
being clear moonlight, a vessel was observed at about two miles distance
from Deal, hovering or standing in towards the shore, which was supposed
to be a smuggler. Lieutenant Bray, commander of the Nimble, being
acquainted with the fact, manned three boats, and proceeded to speak to
her, and, coming within hail, told tliem his name and business, which was
to board and search her. He was answered by many voices with impre-
cations, bidding him keep off; and a volley was instantly fired into his
boat, whereby M'Nier, one of the crew, received a shot in his right breast,
near the pap, of which he instantly died. Lieutenant Bray then proceeded
to board the vessel, which proved to be the Juliet lugger, of Deal, (laden
with about four hundred tubs or half-ankers of spirits,) but he received
another volley: he however persisted, and boarded the lugger, when an
engagement began, in which some men fell. North leaped overboard, but
was taken, and Harris was found concealed in the hold. He said that he
was only a passenger, and had been waiter at the assembly-house at Mar-
gate, where he was then going; but unluckily for him he had on a pair ol
trousers and a seaman s jacket, in the pockets of which were found several
musket and pistol balls.
312 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
On this evidence tlie prisoners were found guilty; and on the morning of
the lyth, two days after conviction, tliey were taken from the cells of New-
gate, put into a cart, and conveyed to the gallows, which was erected ou a
platform at Execution Dock, and there executed. •
CHARLES PEICE.
CHAKGED WITH FORGERY.
The subject of this narrative was bom about the year 1730, in LonduM
— his father lived in 3Ionmouth-street, and carried on the trade of a sales-
man in old clothes, and there he died, in tlie year 1752, of a broken heart,
occasioned, it is said, by the bad conduct of his children.
In early life Price exhibited those traits of duplicity, which were mani-
fested in his subsequent career, frequently defrauding his father, and dis-
posing of the property, which he carried ofi' to the Jews, disguised in his
brother's clothes. By this means his brother was occasionally chastised in
his place, while he escaped unpunished.
The following anecdote of his ingenuity is highly characteristic of his
disposition. His father, tired of his tricks and knaveries, put iiim appren
tice to a hosier in St. James' s-street, but even here he was unable to restrain
his appetite for fraud. Having managed, on the occasion of one of his
visits to his home, to carry off a suit of clothes of elegant workmanship,
he dressed himself with becoming taste, and, thus disguised, proceeded to
his master's shop. Calling himself the Hon. Mr. Bolingbroke, he selected
a variety of silk stockings of beautiful texture, undiscovered by his em-
ployer, and on quitting the house, he desired that the goods should be sent
to him at Hanover House in an hour's time, when he promised that he
would pay for them. Being perfectly aware that it would be his duty to
carry home the goods. Price immediately stripped himself of his disguise,
and, returning to his master's residence, was directed to convey the parcel
to Hanover House. He soon came back declaring that 3Ir. Bolingbroke
was out, and that he had left the stockings with the bill: but it being
speedily ascertained that they had been lodged with a pawnbroker instead
of the supposed customer, and his ingenious scheme being discovered, he
was dismissed from his employment.
He had not been long at liberty, before he sailed for Holland, and there
assuming the name of Johnson, he obtained a situation as clerk in the
counting-house of a merchant, by means of a forged letter of introduction.
Having debauched his master's daughter, and carried oft' a considerable
sum of money, he thought it prudent to return to England ; but having
there soon expended the proceeds of his fraud in dissipation, he was again
thrown upon the world.
His wits, however, were not exhausted, nor did they ever slumber long.
He determined upon a trial to establish a brewery, by obtaining a partner
with money; and as a first step towards it, in the year 1775, he issued the
following curious advertisement: —
" Wanted, — A partner of character, probity, and extensive acquaintance,
upon a plan permanent and productive. Fifty per cent, without risk, may
be obtained. It is not necessary he should have any knowledge of the
business, which the advertiser possesses to its fullest extent; but he must
THE NEW NEWCATE CAT-JiyT>AH SIJ
possess a capital of between five hundred and one t'itn^sand pcuna'« t«« pur-
chase materials, with which, to the knowledge ol the advertisei, a large
fortune must be made in a very short time.
" Address to P. C, Cardigan Head, Charing Cross.
" P. S. None but principals, and those of liberal ideas, will be treated
with.'
To this advertisement the famous comedian, Samuel Foote, paid atten-
tion. Eager to seize what he thouglit a gulden opportunity, he advanced
the sum of five hundred pounds for a brewery ; we need not add, that the
sum soon disappeared, and Foote retired from the concern, having gained
nothing but experience and disappointment. Price, however, had the im-
pudence to apply to him again, wishing him to unite in the baking trade;
but the comedian archly replied, " As you have brewed, so you may bake ;
but I'll be cursed if ever you bake as you have brewed !"
After this unfortunate business, Mr. Price turned methodist preacher,
and in this character defrauded several persons of large sums of money.
Advertising in order to get gentlemen u'lves, he swindled a person of the
name of AVigmore of fifty guineas, for which he was indicted; but having
refunded a part, he eti'ected his escape.
With astonishing impudence he afterwards again set up a brewery in
Gray's Inn Lane; and after various frauds, he became a bankrupt in 1776.
Ever fruitful in resources, he set out for Germany, where he engaged in
some smuggling scheme, for wliich he was imprisoned ; but he returned to
England, having managed to pocket three hundred pounds in the 'jourse '■f
his trip. A brewery in Lambeth was then again tried, but ineftectually ;
and he was afterwards successively a begging- letter impostor and a lottery
oflice keeper ; and then he assumed the trade by which he qualified himself
to become the subject of remark in the Newgate Calendar. Having
leagued himself witli a number of adventurers whose business consisted in
making and selling forged notes, he entered into their schemes; but, fearful
of being himself employed in the dangerous act of putting off the notes,
in the year 1780, memorable for the riots in London, he assumed the
name of Brant, and engaged a plain, simple, honest fellow, as a servant,
whom he converted into the instrument of passing his forged notes without
detection. He advertised fur this servant, and conducted himself in a man-
ner truly curious towards hiin. The young man, having answered th'^
advertisement, heard nothing relative to it for about a week. One evening,
however, just about dusk, a coachman was heard inquiring for him, say-
ing there was a gentleman over the way in a coach who wanted to speak
to him. On this the young fellow was called, and went to the coach,
when he was desired to step in; and there he found an apparently old man,
ati'ecting the foreigner, seemingly very much afflicted with the gout, as he
was completely wrapped up in flannel about the legs, and wearing a camlet
surtout, buttoned over his chin, close up to his mouth; a large black patch
over his left eye ; and almost every part of his face so hid, tiiat the young
fellow could scarcely discover a feature except his nose, his right eye, and
a part of that cheek. The young man's character was found to suit, and
ho was engaged; but his surprise may easily be imagined, when on liis next
Bfteiug his employer, he found him a thin, genteel-looking young man.
The simplicity of the young man whom he had thus duped into his ser-
vice was ouch, that Price found no difficulty whatever in iiegotiating
vol,. I. s s
314 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
tlirouo^h his means notes to the amount of about fifteen hundred
pounds, which were principally expended in the purchase of lottery-tickets
and shares; but the unfortunate wretch was eventually taken into custody,
and was left by his employer to suffer all the fears likely to arise in his
mind upon the contemplation of the supposed consequences of his crime.
His innocence was, however, at length proved, and he was set at liberty,
but not until he had suffered nearly twelve months' imprisonment. His
late master in the mean time had retired from public life, and nothing
more was heard of him until the year 1782, when, having exhausted the
proceeds of his former villanies, he was compelled to come fortli again to
renew his depredations on the public. He began by employing a lad
named Power as the instrument of his minor proceedings, but emboldened
by success, through the medium of his disguises, he succeeded occasionally
in obtaininor very large sums. The following anecdote is related of the
success with which he carried on his trade. He had frequently been at the
shop of a Mr. Roberts, grocer, in Oxford Street, where he now and then
Ijou" ht a few articles, and took many opportunities of showing his import-
ance. Upon one occasion he called in a hackney-coach, disguised as an
old man, and bought some few articles: a day or two afterwards he re-
peated his visit; and on a third day, wl|on he knew Mr, Roberts was not
in the way, went again, with his face so painted that he appeared to be
diseased with the yellow-jaundice. The shopman, to whom he enume-
rated his complaints, kindly informed him of a prescription for that dis-
order, by which his father had been cured of it. Price gladly accepted of
the receipt, promising that if it succeeded, he would call again, and hand-
somely reward him for his civility: in conformity with which he entered
the shop a few days afterwards, apparently perfectly free from the com-
plaint, and acknowledged his great obligations to the shopman ; after which
he expatiated freely on his affluent circumstances, the short time he had to
live, and the few relations he had to leave his property to, and made him
a present of a ten-pound bank-note. It will naturally be conceived this
was a foroery, but it had the desired effect with Price; for at the same
time he said he wanted cash for another, which was a fifty-pound note.
This the oblicring and unsuspecting shopman got change for at an opposite
neighbour's. The next day, during Mr. Roberts's absence, he called again,
and entreated the lad to get small notes for five other notes of fifty pounds
each : the lad, however, telling him his master was not at home. Price
beo-o-ed he would take them to his master's bankers', and there get chem
changed. This request was immediately complied with. The bankers,
Messrs. Burchall and Co., complied with ]\[r. Roberts' supposed request,
immediately changed them, and small notes were that day given to Price
for them.
He practised his frauds with equal effect upon Mr. Spilsbury, the
vender of a celebrated quack-medicine, with whom he traded in the name
of Wilmot, and upon many others ; and so great was his success, that in
one day he negotiated sixty 10/. notes, and besides, exchanged fourteen
50Z. for seven 100/. notes of the Bank of England.
In his last attt-mpt on the Bank, which ended in his detection, he
assumed the name of Palton, pretending he was an Irish linen factor, and
employed two young men to circulate his notes, whilst he, still greatly
disguised, kept back in obscurity.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 315
By means of a pawnbroker, he was found out with great difficulty ;
and on hi-s seizure he solemnly declared his innocence, and before the
magistrate behaved with considerable insolence. His detection took place
on the 14th of January, 1786 ; and notwithstanding his disguises, he was
soon sworn to by more persons than one ; and seeing no way to escape,
he pretended, to his wife in particular, great penitence. The Bank was
fully intent on his prosecution, and there appeared no doubt of his dying
by the hands of the executioner ; but even this he managed to avoid, for
one evening he was found hanging against the post of his door, in the
apartment allotted liim in TothiUfields' Bridewell. In this situation he was
discovered by the keeper of the prison, who cut him down quite dead, and
found in his bosom three letters ; in one of which, addressed to the directors
of the Bank, he confessed everything relative to the forgery, and the
manner of circulating the notes ; another, addressed to his wife, was written
in a most affecting style ; and in the third, directed to the keeper, he
thanked him for the very humane treatment he had experienced during
his confinement.
A coroner's jury was summoned, as usual in such cases, and returned
a verdict of " self-murder ;" in consequence of which his body was thrown
into the ground in TothiUfields, and a stake driven through it.
In a box belonging to Price were found, after his death, two artificial
noses, very curiously executed, in imitation of nature. These, it is
obvious, he occasionally wore as a p;u't of the vai'ious disguises by which
he had been enabled so long to elude the hand of justice. The counterfeit
plates were found buried in a field near Tottenham-court Road, the turf
being replaced on the spot, and, with the rolling-press, and other materials
found at his lodgings, were ordered by Sir Sampson Wright, :he presiding
magistrate, to be destroyed.
His wife, who had been confined with him as an accomplice, and by
whom he had a family of eight u'liildren, was ordered to be discharged
immediately after his burial.
HENRY STERNE, alias GENTLEMAN HARRY.
CONVICTED OF STEALING THE DUKE OF BEAUFORt's "GEORGE."
This ofi^ender was one of the class called " gentlemen pickpockets."
Beinor a fellow of grood address, and of tolerable education, he manao-ed
by «orae means to intrude himself into decent society, where he found it
:sisy to carry on his schemes of depredation.
He was indicted on the 12th of September, 1787, for robbing his Grace
the Duke of Beaufort of his " George," meaning the star of the order of
the garter, on the 4th of June previous, which was the King's birthday.
From the evidence of his grace, it appeared that he was quitting his
majesty's levee on the day in question, followed by his servants, his "George"
beinw pendent from his neck by the ribbon ; when, on his reaching the
corner of St. James's-street, he found himself suddenly surrounded by a
great crowd of people, who pushed him about. He did not at first
understand the meaning of it, when presently a thought struck him that
the object was to rob him, and he found that his "George" was gone. He
called for his servants, who directly came up, and his grace pointed out
316 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
a man in black as the thief. He was searched, however, but nothing
found ; and then the prisoner being seized, the ornament was discovered
in his pocket.
The prisoner denied the charge imputed to him, and hoped that the jury
would not sulFer any reports which they had heard of his character to
operate to his prejudice ; but he was found guilty, and sentenced to be
transported for seven years to Botany Bay.
SAMUEL BURT.
CONVICTED OF FORGERY.
Mr. Burt, previously to the occurrence for which he was tried and
executed, bore a most exemplary character. The particulars of the forgery
of which he was guilty do not appear to have come out on the trial, when
the prisoner pleaded guilty; but his object in its commission, as well as in
refusing to deny his guilt, may be collected from the manner in which he
addressed the Court on liis being called up for judgment.
He said, •' My lord, — I am too sensible of the crime I have committed,
and for which I justly deserve to suffer, not to know that I have forfeited
my life, and I wish to resign it into the hands of Him who gave it. To
give my reasons for this would only satisfy an idle curiosity : no one can
feel a more sensible, heartfelt satisfaction in the hopes of shortly passing
into eternity, wherein, I trust, I shall meet with great felicity. I have
no desire to live; and as the jury and court in my trial thought proper to
recommend me to mercy, if his majesty should in consequence thereof
grant me a reprieve, I here vow in the face of Heaven, that I will put an
end to my own existence as soon as I can. It is death that I wish for,
because nothing but death can extricate me from the troubles in which
my follies have involved me."
Sentence was then passed in due form, but we do not find any entry
of its having been carried out ; and it is therefore very likely that the
recommendation of the jury, alhided to by the prisoner, was attended
to. The last notice which is taken of the case in the books is in the
following terms : — " Samuel Burt, the unhappy youth who, under a
depression of mind, abhorring the guilt of suicide, committed a forgery in
order to suffer death by the law, was respited;" dated December, 1787.
From the observations made by the prisoner, it is pretty evident that
he was labouring under a species of insanity, by which he was persuaded
that he must suffer death. The following instances of a similar description
are of a character far more melancholy, inasmuch as that in each the
murder of a fellow-creature was the means adopted by the unhappy
maniac, for the offenders can be considered in no other light, to secure
his own death.
On the 4th of September, 1760, when North America was a British
province, Mr. Robert Scull and several gentlemen were playing at billiards
in Philadelphia, when Captain Bruluman, late of the Royal American
regiment, came into the room, and, without the smallest provocation,
levelled a loaded gun, which he had brought with him, and shot Mr. Scull
through the body just after he had struck liis ball.
It afterwards appeared that this desperate man had been brought up
THR NEW NKWfiATE CALENDAR. 317
a silversmith ; and tliat luivinw entered the army, he became an officer in
the Royal American regiment, but was broke on his being detected in
counterfeiting or uttering base money. He then returned to Philadelphia,
and growing insui)p()rtal>le to himself, and yet unwilling to jnit an end to
his own life, he determined upon the commission of some crime, for which
he would certainly be hanged by the law.
Having formed this design, he loaded his gun with a brace of balls, and
asked his landlord to go shooting with him, intending to murder him
before his return ; but the landlord, fortunately for himself, being particu-
larly engaged at home, escaped the danger. He then went out alone, and
on the way met a man whom he was about to kill ; but recollecting that
there were no witnesses to prove him guilty, he suffered the man to pass.
He next proceeded to the tavern, where he drank some liquor ; and
hearing people playing at billiards in a room above that in which he sat,
he went up stairs, and entered into conversation with the players in
apparent good humour. In a little time he called the landlord, and desired
him to hang up the gun. Mr. Scull having struck his antagonist's ball in
one of the pockets, Bruluman said to him, " Sir, you are a good marksman ;
now I'll show you a fine stroke." He immediately took down his gun,
levelled it, deliberately took aim at Mr. Scull (who imagined him in jest),
and shot both the balls through his body. He tlien went up to the dying
man, who was still sensible, and said to him, " Sir, I have no malice or ill
will against you ; I never saw you before ; but I was determined to kill
soraubody that I might be hanged, and you happen to be the man ; and I
am very sorry for your misfortune." Mr. Scull had just time left in this
world to send for his friends, and make his will. He forgave his murderer,
and if it could be done, desired he might be pardoned ; but Bruluman died
on tlie gallows, exulting in his fate.
The same volume from which we make the above extract contains
another case of the like nature, and, if possible, more extraordinary. It
appears, however, that in this instance the judges of the unfortunate
offender treated him as was most proper — as a maniac. The scene of this
second murder is not mentioned.
It is stated that a youth of the name of David Williams, Avhen about
fifteen years of age, was one day against his wish detained from schooi by
his stepfather, who greatly wanted his assistance on tlie farm. While
tlms employed, a log rolled on one of his legs, which injured it to such a
degree that it became nearly useless ; and by another accident he soon after
hurt the other limb, so that he was rendered a cripple before he had attained
the years of manhood.
At these misfortunes he continually repined ; blamed his stepfather for
keeping him that day from school, whereby he received his first injury ;
and, mortified at his appearance among his comrades, some of whom, he
said, ridiculed him, he became weary of the world, and determined to
terminate his misfoi'tunes with his life.
For this end suicide and mvirder presented themselves. The first he
thought the most eligible ; but then it brought to his mind the horrors of
appearing by his own violence before God, for which he feared he should
not be pardoned ; and therefore he was induced to abandon that for the
latter, which he conceived would afford him a better excuse to the
Almighty. He familiarised himself with this act of desperation by conti
318 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
nually thinking of it ; so that in time it became a pleasmg subject of con-
templation.
The idea of the grief which it must occasion his mother at times almost
unbent his resolution ; but then the idea of its proving a sweet revenge on
his stepfather bore down every other consideration. Thus determined,
the next step of this unliappy youth was to select a proper subject on
whom the deed should be coumiitted, A grown person or a child was the
question. The former, he concluded, must be under sin and guilt ; there-
fore by sudden death and thus unprepared, his danmation might be charge-
able to him, and he be doubly guilty : the latter being innocent, he might
avoid that charge, and he therefore resolved upon murdering some child.
Now the particular object for this horrid purpose was the next consider-
ation ; but he confessed that, though he thought of it more than six months,
yet none occurred until within five minutes of his committing his long-
determined and bloody deed.
All the mornino- of the fatal day he said that he felt an imaccountable and
far stroncrer desire to commit murder than before ; — to use his own words,
•■' somethmg like hankering after fruit."
At this unfortunate moment he chanced to spy a little boy, named Ira,
the son of Mr. Lane, a neighbour, gathering plums ; and finding the
parents absent, he determined on seizing the opportunity and subject. He
instantly took a gun, fired at, and sliglitly wounded the cliild in the side
of the abdomen. Finding his victim yet alive, he limped to him. led him to
the house, placed him upon a bed, and took a station at the door. The
poor devoted little Ira had yet strength left to get from the bed, in
order to see " whether his father was coming to cure hira ;" and Williams
answered that his father would come by-and-by, and bade him go to bed
again and lie still. Again the murderer listened for the dying groan of the
boy ; but finding his work incomplete, (horrid to relate !) he took an axe,
went to the bed, looked upon the innocent child, and while it held up its
little hands for help, the monster struck it on the head, and, by repeated
blows, chopped it in pieces.
The wretched murderer was a youth of extraordinary mental talents for
his years until the fatal gloom overspread him. After the horrid deed was
done, he spoke of it with calmness, observing that, though he had often
considered the grief he should bring on his own mother, it never occurred
to him the distraction it must cause her who bore the murdered child.
His whole intent was to get himself hanged ; and he supposed that the
palliating circumstances under which the luurder was committed would
induce the Almighty to forgive him.
Upon his trial he was deemed to be insane, and was treated as such.
THOMAS GORDON, THE YOUNGER.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
Mr. Gordon, the father of this wretched youth, was a surgeon and
apothecary in London, from whence he removed his family into North-
amptonshire not long before the fatal circumstance, which is about to be
described, happened.
Mr. Gordon continued to practise in the country, and soon became
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 319
envied and disliked from his being a stranger ; and the consequence was,
that frequent quarrels took place. At length a justice's warrant waa
obtained against the father on a pretended charge of assault, and the consta-
ble went to j\Ir. Gordon's house in order to apprehend him ; but the wife
and son told the officer he was not at home. Tlie constable, however,
knew that he was in the house and went away, but soon returned with
some neighbours, and with them was about to make a forcible entry, when
the motiier and son opposed them, the latter being armed witli a gun. The
populace threw stones at tlie windows, when the motlier, in an unlucky
moment, bade her son fire : he did so, and killed the constable on the spot.
Both mother and son were tried, and found guilty of the murder ; but
Baron Thompson, who presided on th ebench, observing that the mother was
indicted as an accessory before the fact, and that the evidence proved that
she was a principal, he had doubts whether she was properly convicted,
and therefore reserved the case for the opinion of the twelve judges, who,
upon solemn argument, confirmed the sentence against the son, but at the
same time adjudged the indictment against the mother to be bad ; and the
poor youth received sentence of death. He was three times reprieved;
from which he hoped, and the world flattered him with an opinion, that
his pardon would ultimately follow ; but an order at length came for his
execution, and although he was in a state of insanity at the time, brought
on by the cruel suspense in which he had been kept as to his fate, he was
executed at Nortliampton on the 17th of August, 1789, aged only nineteen
years.
THOMAS PHIPPS, ESQ. THE ELDER, AND THOMAS
PHIPPS, THE YOUNGER.
EXECUTED FOR FORGERY.
These malefactors were father and son ; and their final exit from this
life was attended by circumstances of the most heart-rending and melan-
choly description. The father was a man of good property, and lived on
his own estate at Llwyney Mapsis, in Shropshire ; and he and his son were
indicted for uttering a note of hand for twenty pounds, purporting to be
that of Mr. Richard Coleman of Oswestry, knowing the same to have been
forged.
It was proved on their trial that Mr. Coleman never had had any trans-
actions with Mr. Pliipps tliat required the signing of any note whatever;
that about the Chris>tnias before, Mr. Coleman was served with a copy of a
writ at the suit of Mr. Phipps the elder, which action ]\Ir. Coleman
defended, and for want of further proceedings on the part of the plaintiff,
arion pros, was signed, with two pounds three shillings costs of suit against
Phipps. Upon this an aftidavit was drawn up and sworn by Phipps the
elder, Phipps the younger, and William Thomas, their clerk, for the
purpose of moving the Court of Exchequer to set aside the judgment of non
pros, and therein they svtore that the cause of action was a note of the said
Coleman's for twenty pounds, which was given as satisfaction for a trespass
bv him committed in carrying some hay ofi"the land of one of JNIr. Phippe
;{ie elder s tenants.
The Court thereupon granted a rule to show cause why the judgment
320 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
should not be set aside ; but Mr. Coleman insisting that tlie note was a
forgery, the present prosecution was instituted against the father, son, and
Thomas.
After a full hearing at the assizes at Shrewsbury, the father and son
were pronoimced " Guilty of uttering and publishing the note, knowing it
to be forged ;" and William Thomas was found " Not Guilty."
Though convicted on the fullest evidence, the unhappy men, until the
morning ()f their execution, persisted in their innocence ; but when about to
leave the jail, young Phipps made the following confession : " It was I
alone who committed the forgery : my father is entirely innocent, and was
ignorant of the note being forged when he published it."
They were taken in a mourning-coach to the place of execution, accom-
panied by a clergyman and a friend who attended them daily after their
condemnation.
On their way to the fatal tree the father said to the son, " Tommy,
thou hast brought me to this shameful end, but I freely forgive thee ;"
to which the sou made no reply. It being remarkably wet weather, theii*
devotions were chiefly performed in the coach. Whea the awful moment
arrived, Mr. Phipps said to his son, " You have brought me hither ; do
you h-ad the way ! " which the youth immediately did, and in the most
composed manner ascended the ladder to a temporary scaffold erected for
the purpose of their execution, followed by his father.
When th'.'"r devotions were finished, and the halters tied to the gaUows,
this most wretched father and son embraced each other, and in a few
moments the scaffold fell, and they were hand-in-hand launched into eter-
nity, September the 5th 1789, amid avast concourse of pitying spectators
The father was forty-eight, and the son just twenty years of age.
RENWICK WILLIAMS, COIMMONLY CALLED " THE
MONSTER."
IMPRISONED FOR A BRUTAL AND WANTON ASSAULT OX A FEMALE.
The mind is utterly at a loss to conceive any reason which could urge
this unnatural brute to the commission of the crimes which upon his trial
were distinctly proved against him. The offence of which he was found
guilty was that of making a most wanton and unmanly attack upon an
unprotected female, upon whom he inflicted a very severe wound, no
provocation whatever having been offered to him. For a considerable
time before the apprehension of this offender, a report was very generally
prevalent that many young and respectable females had been privately and
suddenly wounded in various parts of their person while walking through
the streets, in some cases in open day, by a villain, who invariably
succeeded in making his escape. Sometimes it was reported that the
wound was given at a time when the man approached the lady for the
purpose of presentmg a nosegay to her ; and it was said that, holding the
flowers to her nose, he would stab her in the face with a sharp instrument
which was concealed among their stems ; while at others it was said that
the wound was given in the thigh, behind, or in private parts of the person,
so that occasionally the most serious injury was inflicted ; and an alnio&t
universal terror prevailed.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 321
At length a man named Renwick "Williams was apprehended, who waa
distinctly sworn to by a Miss Porter, npon whom he had inflicted a wound ;
and at the sessions held on the 18th of July 1790, he was put on his trial
at the Old Bailey for the offence alleged against him.
The indictment charged that the prisoner, on the 18th of January, with
force and arms, in the parish of St. James, on the King's higliway upon
Anne Porter did make an assault ; and that he did unlawfully, wilfully,
and maliciously inflict upon her a certain wound, &c. against the peace. A
second count charged the said Renwick Williams, that on tlie same day
and year he did unlawfully, wilfully, and maliciously tear, spoil, cut, and
deface the garments and clothes — to wit, the cloak, gown, petticoat, and
shift of the said Anne Porter, contrary to the statute, and against the
peace, &c,
]\Iiss Anne Porter deposed that she had been at St. James's to see the
ball on the night of the 18th of January 1790, accompanied by her sister,
Miss Sarah Porter, and another lady ; that her father had appointed tu
meet them at twelve o'clock, the hour the ball generally breaks up ; but
that it ended at eleven, and she was therefore under the necessity either of
staying where she was, until her father came, or of returning home at that
time. Her father, she said, lived in St. James's-street, and kept a tavern
and a cold bath there ; and as it was not far, she agreed to go home
with her party. A.S they proceeded up St. James's-street her sister
appeared much agitated, and called to her to hasten home, which she and
her company accordingly did. Her sister was the first to reach the hall-
door, and as the witness turned the corner of the rails she received a
blow on the right hip. She turned round and saw the prisoner stoon
down : she had seen him before several times, on each of which he had
followed close behind her, and used language so gross that the Court did
not press on her to relate the particulars.
He did not immediately run away when he struck her, but looked on
her face, and she thus had a perfect opportunity of observino- him. She
had no doubt, she said, of the prisoner being the man that wounded her.
She supposed that the wound was inflicted v>'ith a sharp instrument,
because her clothes were cut and she was wounded through them. The
prisoner at that time escaped ; but on the 13th of June, as she was walk-
ing in St. James's Park with her mother and two sisters, and a Mr.
Coleman, she saw him again, and being agitated, her alarm was remarked,
and the prisoner was eventually secured upon her pointing him out.
The evidence of Miss Sarah Porter, the sister of the last witness, was to the
same effect. She stated that she was well acquainted with the prisoner's
person, and that he had followed her, and talked to her in language the most
shocking and obscene. She had seen him four or five different times. On that
night when her sister was cut, she saw him standing near the bottom of
St. James's-street, and spying her, he exclaimed, " 0 ho ! are you there ! "
and immediately struck her a violent blow on the side of the head. She
then, as well as she was able, being almost stunned, called to her sister to
make haste, adding, " Don't you see thcAvretch behind us?" Upon coming
to their own door, the prisoner rushed between them, and about the time
he struck her sister, he also rent the witness's gown.
It was proved further, that the prisoner, on his being pointed out by
Miss Porter, was followed by Mr. Coleman as far as South Molton-streei,
VOL. I. T T
322 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
where he entered a house, but being followed, his address was demaniled
lie for some time declined complying with the request which was made,
but eventually said that he lived at No. 52, Jcrmyn-street. Mr. Coleman,
however, felt that he ought not to permit him to escape, and he tlierefore
compelled him to accompany him to Miss Porter's house. He at first
objected to doing so, on the ground of its being late, but force being used,
he was obliged to obey. On his arrival, Miss Anne and Miss Sarah Porter
fainted away, exclaiming, '•• Oh, my God! that is the wretch!" Upon which
the prisoner said, " The young ladies' conduct is very strange. They don't
take me for the monster who is advertised ?" He was assured, however,
that he was known to be that person ; and he was then conveyed in cus-
tody before the magistrates, by whom he was committed for trial. It was
also proved that the wound which had been inflicted on Miss Porter was
of a very serious description. It was at the beginning, and for two or
three inches, only skin deep, but then it suddenly sunk to the depth of
four inches, gradually becommg more shallow towards the end. Its length
from the hip downwards was nine or ten inches.
The prisoner, being called upon for his defence, begged the indulgence
of the Court, in supplying the deficiency of his memory upon what he
wished to state from a written paper. He accordingly read as follows : —
" He stood," he said, " an object equally demanding the attention and
compassion of the Court. That, conscious of his innocence, he was ready
to admit the justice of whatever sufferings he had hitherto undergone,
arisino- from suspicion. He had the greatest confidence in the justice and
liberality of an English jury ; and hoped they would not suffer his fate to
be decided by the popular prejudice raised against him. The hope of
proving his innocence had hitherto sustained him.
" He professed himself the warm friend and admirer of that sex whose
cause was now asserted ; and concluded with solemnly declaring that the
whole prosecution was founded on a dreadful mistake, which he had no
doubt the evidence he was about to call would clear up to the satisfaction
of the Court."
He then called two witnesses, who gave him a good character ; and
who stated that he was at work for his master, Mr. Mitchell, an artificial
flower maker, in Dover-street, Piccadilly, up to the hour of one o'clock
on the night in question.
Mr. Justice Buller summed up the case to the jury. Having com-
mented upon the evidence which had been produced, he said that he
should reserve the case for the opinion of the twelve judges, for several
reasons : first, because this was completely and perfectly a new case in
itself; and secondly, because this was tlie first indictment of the kind that
was ever tried. Therefore, although he himself entertained but little doubt
upon the first point, yet, as the case was new, it would be right to have a
solemn decision upon it. Upon the second point he owned that he enter-
tained some doubts. This indictment was certainly the first of the kind
that was ever drawn in this kingdom. It was founded upon the statute
of the 6th George I. Upon this statute it must be proved that it was the
intent of the party accused, not only to wound the body, but also cut, tear,
and spoil the garment : — one part of this charge was quite clear, namely,
that Miss Porter was wounded, and her clothes torn The first question,
therefore, for the consideration of the jury would be, whether this was
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR, 323
done wilfully, and with intent to spoil the garment, as well as to wound
the body. That was a fiict for the jury to decide ; and if they agreed
upon tliis, then, whether the prisoner was the man who did it. It should
be observed, that here tliere was a wound given, with an instrument that
was not calculated solely for tlie purpose of affecting the body, such, for
instance, as piercing or stabbing, by making a hole; but here was an
actual cutting, and the wound was of a very considerable length, and so
was the rent in tlie clothes. It was for the jury to decide whether, as
both body and clothes were cut, he w^ho intended the end did not also
intend the means. He left it to the jury to say, upon the whole case,
whether the prisoner was guilty or innocent.
The jury immediately, without hesitation, found the prisoner guilty.
Mr. Justice BuUer then ordered the judgment in this case to be arrested,
and the recognizances of the persons bound to prosecute to be respited until
the December sessions.
At the commencement of the sessions at the Old Bailey, on the 10th
of December 1790, Judge Ashurst addressed the prisoner nearly in the
following terms • — " You have been capitally convicted, under the statute
6 George I., of maliciously tearing, cutting, spoiling, and defacing the gar-
ments of Anne Porter, on the . 8th of January last. Judgment has been
arrested on two points, — one that the indictment is informal, the other
that the statute does not reach the crime. Upon solemn consideration,
the judges are of opinion that botli the objections are well founded : but,
although you are discharged from this indictment, yet you are within the
purview of the common law. You are therefore to be remanded to be
tried for a misdemeanor."
He was accordingly, on the IDth of the same month, tried at Hicks's
Hall for the misdemeanor, in making an assault on Miss Anne Porter,
The trial lasted sixteen hours : there were three counts in the indict-
ment ; viz. for assaulting with intent to kill, for assaulting and wounding,
and for a common assault.
Tlie same witnesses were then called in support of the charge as appeared
on the trial at the Old Bailey ; and they gave very clear, correct, and
circumstantial evidence, positively swearing to the person of the prisoner.
The prisoner produced two witnesses. Miss Amet and Mr. Mitchell,
who attempted to prove an alibi, and the credit of their testimony was
not impeached by any contradiction. The question therefore was, to
which the jury would give credit ; fur the evidence on both sides was
equally fair and unexceptionable, and the prisoner was acquitted.
The prisoner was again put to the bar at ten o'clock the next morning,
and tried on the remaining indictments, on three of which he was found
guilty ; when tlie Court sentenced him to two years' imprisonment in New-
gate for each, and at the expiration of the time to find security for his
good behaviour, himself in two hundred pounds, and two sureties in one
hundred pounds each.
324 THE iNEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
EDWARD LOWE AND WILLIAM JOBBIN&
EXECUTED FOR ARSON.
These prisoners were indicted at the Old Bailey sessions for feloniousiy
setting fire to the house of Francis Gilding, in Aldersgate-street, on the
16th of May 1790.
From the evidence of the apprentice of Mr. Gilding, wlio was an accom-
plice in the wicked deed, it appeared that he was acquainted with the
two prisoners, who were persons of l)ad character ; and that it was deter-
mined among tliem that Mr. Gilding's house, whicli was the Red Lion
Inn, should be set on fire, in order that they might plunder it. Accord-
ingly at about twelve o'clock on the night of Saturday, 16th May, they
met in the inn-yard, and Lowe got up into the hay- loft, and placing some
combustibles there, set them alight with a pipe, which he was smoking.
The fire soon blazed out, and the prisoners were very active in carrying
off the goods, which they took away in a cart. The witness was in the
act of carrying away a chest of drawers when he was stopped by Lucie,
a constable, upon whose evidence he was convicted. He subsequently,
however, on condition of his being pardoned, consented to give evidence
against the prisoners. This testimony being confirmed by that of other
witnesses, the jury returned a verdict of guilty against the prisoners, and
on the 2nd November they were brought up to receive judgment. The
learned Recorder then addressed them in the following terms : " I hardly
know how to find words to express the abhorrence that I feel, or that the
public entertains, of the crime of which you stand convicted. — The setting-
fire to houses in the dead of night, for the purpose of plunder, at the risk
of the lives of the inhabitants of a great city, is a crime not yet to be met
with upon the records of villany that have been brought forward in this
court. As the crime is singular, so the punishment must be marked; I
take it it will be so marked, and hope the example will be such, that, if
there should be left any persons of the same wicked intentions, they will
take example from your fate. As your crime is singular and novel, I
hope it will be the only one brought into this court of the same descrip-
tion. You therefore must prepare to die, and consider yourselves as men
without hope in this world. — And, give me leave to assure you, that it is
my decided opinion that, for an offence so very atrocious as yours, you
can never expect salvation in the world to come, unless you will make
some reparation to your injured country, and to God, whom you have
offended, by a sincere confession of all the offences of which you have been
guilty, and by a disclosure of tlie names of all persons who either have
engaged, or are about to engage in crimes so detestable as that of which
you stand convicted ; — -nothing therefore remains, but that I should pray
to Almighty God, and it is now my earnest prayer to Him, that you may
all obtain forgiveness and remission of your sins."
On tlie morning of the 20th of November these incendiaries were brought
out of Newgate, and placed on a high seat, which had been fixed in the
cart to render them more conspicuous to the spectators. They were then
conveyed, attended by the Sheriffs and other City ofiicers, to Aldersgate-
street, where a temporary gallows was erected opposite the spot where
stood the house of Mr Gilding, to which tliey had set fire. They arrired
THE NEW NEWGATE CALEXDAK. 325
at fhe fatal tree about a quarter before nine o'clock, when Mr. Villette, the
Ordinary, went into the cart, and prayed with them for about twenty
minutes, after wliich tliey were turned off. They both confessed to ]\Ir.
Villette the facts for which they had so justly suffered.
Jobbing had been educated at St. Paul's school, was bred a suro-eon, and
was only nineteen years of age when he suffered. Lowe was about twenty-
three years of age.
A boy named I\Iead was on the 31st August in the ensuing year exe-
cuted for a similar offence in firing the house of his master, Mr. '\T alter
Cavardine, a publican, in Red Lion-street.
JOSEPH WOOD AND THOMAS UNDERWOOD,
EXECUTED FOR ROBBERY.
The whole parties in this case maybe literally called children the male-
factors being but fourteen years of age each; and the prosecutor no more
than twelve !
Though of this tender age, yet were they convicted as old and darinw
depredators. So often had they already been arraigned at that bar where
they were condemned, that the judge declared, notwithstanding their ap-
pearance, (they were short, dirty, ill-visaged boys,) it was necessary, for
the public safety, to cut tliem off, in order that other boys might learn
that, inured to wickedness, their tender age would not save them from an
ignominious fate.
The crime for which they suffered was committed with every circum-
stance of barbarity. They forcibly took away a bundle, containing a
jacket, shirt, and waistcoat, from a little boy, and then fell upon him, and
would probably have murdered him, had they not been secured. They
had long belonged to a most desperate gang of pickpockets and footpads;
but so hardened and obstinate were they, that they would not impeach
their companions, though the hopes of mercy were held out to them on
making a confession, so that the villains might have been apprehended.
They were executed at Newgate, July 6th, 1791, apparently insensible
of their dreadful situation.
WILLIAM GADESBY,
EXECUTED FOR ROBBERY.
In recording the case of this culprit, a Scotch newspaper says, " He was
one of the most notorious villains that has figured in the line ofroo-uery in
this country for many years; and though only twenty-eight years of affe,
his criminal exploits appear, both in variety and number, to equal, if not to
exceed, the achievements of the most dextrous and ^ey-headed offender '"
As this fellow lived, so he determined to die — with notoriety.
He was brought to the gallows at Edinburgh, February the 20th, 1791^
dressed in a suit of white cloth, trimmed with black. The awful ceremouy,
tlie dreadful apparatus of death, the surrounding multitude of spectators.
ajipcared not to shake his frame, nor to agitate his mind. He mounted
V26 THE NICW NEV.OATE CALKMJAB.
the platform of death witli a firm step, and stood with great composura
till the apparatus was adjust^i'd; and then, in a collected manner, and in an
audible voice, gave a brief account of his life.
lie said that the first robbery he committed was in a stationer's shop,
where he purloined a pocket-book. The success of this cliildish theft en-
couraged him to commit others: and in a short time he gave himself wholly
lip to thieving, never letting an opportunity slip of possessing himself of
money or goods, by fraud or force, until the day he was committed to jail.
He said that he often escaped in hackney- chairs, and advised the officer on
guard at the Castle to search all such vehicles.
He declared most solemnly tliat three miserable men, who had been
executed two years before at the place where he then stood, of the names
of Falconer, Bruce, and Dick, were innocent, for that he himself had com-
mitted the robberies for \\hich they were condemned !
With exultation he continued to say — that tlie sums he had acquired by
thieving and cheating did not amount to less than two thousand pounds,
besides the fortune of an unhappy woman whom he seduced and ruined.
It was high time to stop the monster's speech, and the platform was there-
fore dropped, while yet he was exulting in his sins!
" Scotland," says the paper from which we extract this unparalleled case,
" seems to be in an improving state: the following ingenious contrivance
was lately practised at Glasgow: — While a merchant in King-street was
counting some money and bank-notes on a counter, a staff or small rod,
overlaid with birdlime, was suddenly thrust in at the door, which having
touched the notes, two of them were thereby carried off; and, before the
merchant could pursue, the ingenious actor had made his escape. "
THE BIRMINGHAM RIOTS.
These riots were of a nature very similar to those which broke out in
London in the year 1780. The outbreak appears to have been occasioned
bv no immediate cause, but rather by a general feeling of discontent wl)ich
pervaded the minds of the people in this great manufacturing town, aided
by the celebration of the anniversary of the French Revolution, and a
seditious hand-bill, which, had been previously circulated.
The riot was commenced by an attack being made upon a tavern, in Temple-
lane, in which eighty or ninety persons had sat down to a dinner provided
on Thursday, the 14th July 1791, in order to celebrate the event referred
to, when, notwithstanding the personal interference of the magistrates, the
windows in front of the house were demolished, and many of the company
were assaulted. The popular anger being thus excited, tlie mob proceeded
to destroy Dr. Priestley's meeting-house, and the old meeting-house, the
first of which they set on fire, while they contented themselves with burn-
ing the furniture of the latter in the burial-ground. Dr. Priestley's house
at Fair Hill, together with his valuable collection of apparatus for philoso-
phical experiments, was also destroyed, and the mob then dispersed for the
night. On the next morning, however, they again assembled, and being
unopposed by any civil or military force, they proceeded to the commission
of new outrages. INIany were armed with bludgeons and weapons of
oftcuce, and shouting " Church and King," they attacked tlie houses of all
THK NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 33^
who were obnoxious to thom, or opposed to the principles whicli tliey pro-
fessed. Tlie mansion of Mr. John llyland, at Easy Hill, was the first ob-
iect to which they directed their fury, but many of them having got into
the cellars, got so drunk with the wine which they found thei-e, as to be
unable to effect their escape, while their associates without, unmindful of
their safety, set fire to the house, and they were buried beneath its ruins.
Bordesley Hall, the residence of John Taylor, Esq., shared a similar fate,
tl)e mob refusing to listen to any proposition to induce them to retire ; and
on the same night the house of Mr. Hutton in the town was completely
stripped. A number of special constables were in the mean time sworn in,
and attacked the mob with some determination ; but beino- far inferior in
numbers, and quite undisciplined, they were compelled to f^t're. Satur-
day only dawned to exhibit fresh ravages; Mr. Hutton's house at Wash-
wood Heath, three miles from the town, Mr. Humphery's mansion at
Spark Brook, Mr. W. Russell's house at Shewell Green, Mr. T. Hawkes's
house at Moseley Wake Green, and Moseley Hall, the seat of tlie Dowager
Countess of Carhampton, were in turn attacked, and were all in flames at
.he same time. Business was brought to a stand, and no militaiy force
arriving, the mob continued their acts of lawless atrocity undisturbed. At
night many of them levied contributions from the inhabitants of the town
of meat and money, and on the following day they pursued the same course
in the outskirts in reference to all persons they met. The Sabbath even
did not restrain them in tlieir diabolical proceedings, for on that day they
burned two dissenting meeting-houses, and the ministers' dwellings, situ-
ated at about six miles from Birmingham.
At night, soon after ten o'clock, three troops of the 15th Light Dragoons
arrived amid the acclamations of the inhabitants, whose hopes and fears
had been depicted through the day in every countenance, as reports of the
near approach of the soldiery were spread and contradicted. The town was
immediately illuminated, and before morning every thing was tolerably
quiet; but the rioters were still continuing theii- depredations in the coun-
try. They exhausted the cellars at each place, and received various sums
of money to prevent their j^roceeding to further violence.
They were in great force at the time the troops arrived, of which they
no sooner had intimation than they began to slink off in small parties;
and the peasantry, taking courage, put the rest to flight in various
directions.
On Monday the town appeared in perfect security, but as much
crowded as during the three preceding days, in viewing the military; the
mob keeping at such a distance as to render all accounts of them dubious;
at one time being said to be at Alcester, the next hour at Bromsgrove, &c.
On Tuesday there were flying rumours of depredations near Hagley,
Hales Owen, &c.; and in the evening certain information was received that
a party of rioters were then attacking Mr. JMale's, of Belle Vue. A few
of the Light Dragoons immediately went to his assistance ; but the rioters
had been previously overpowered by a body of people in that neighbour
hood, and ten of them were confined at Hales (>wen.
On Wednesday morning the country round, for ten miles, was scoured
by the light horse, but not one rioter was to be met with, and all the ma
nufactories were at work, as if no interruption had taken place. Three
trcops of the 11th Light Dragoons marched in this morning, and more sol-
328 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
diers soon after making their appearance, the whole neighbourhood wag
soon restored to tranquiUity.
At the ensuing assizes lield at Warwick on the 22d August, a great
number of tlie persons concerned in these outrages were put upon their
trial, before ^Ir. Baron Perryn. They were indicted under the Black Act,
and although in several casts the jury appear to liave acted in a manner
somewhat extraordinary, in declaring the prisoners not guilty, many were
convicted and received sentence of death. T>vo of them, however, were
pardoned, but the remainder expiated their offences on the scaffold.
THE MUTINY OF THE BOUNTY.
The case of the mutineers of the Bounty has always attracted consider-
nble attention. The Bounty was an armed vessel, commanded by Capt.
Bligh, which quitted England in the autumn of 1789, for the purpose of
makinof discoveries, and of trading among the Southern Islands ; and
having visited the Friendly and the Otaheitan Islands in the Smth Pacific
Ocean, in the month of ]\Iay 1790, she set sail on her way back to England.
On the 27th of tliat month they lost sight of land ; and up to that time
there had been nothing in the conduct of the crew or petty officers which
could induce a supposition that any disorder was likely to take place. The
mid watch was duly relieved ; but at daybreak on the following morning
the cabin of the captain was forcibly entered by the officer of the watch,
Fletcher Christian, who held the rank of master's mate, and who had
previously been considered a good and faithful seaman, aided by three
others, who drac^ged their commander on deck, threatening instant death if
he dared to speak. Tlie captain exerted all his eloquence to bring back
the mutineers to their duty, but his exertions were of no avail, and he soon
afterwards found the peaceful part of the crew and the officer* brought
upon deck and pinioned. The mutineers told them that they need hope
for no escape by employing violence, for that all the muskets were charged ;
and they corroborated their assertions by exhibiting an armed body of
their own Dumber with muskets and fixed bayonets. The captain at once
perceived that he was in the power of his men ; and his doubts as to
his fate were speedily put an end to by his seeing the long-boat lowered
over the side, which he and his fellows, to the number of eighteen, were
commanded to enter,no other nourishment being afforded them but about one
hundred and forty pounds of bread, thirtypoundsof meat,a gallon and a half
of rum, an equal quantity of wine, and a few gallons of water. A compass
and quadrant were seized by the captain as his imfortunate companions
were entering the boat ; and as soon as he had taken his place, the muti-
neers gave three cheers, and stood away, as they said, for Otaheite.
Captain Bligh on taking muster of the remains of his crew left to him,
found that he had in his boat the boatswain, the carpenter, the gunner, the
surgeon's-mate, two midshipmen, and one master's -mate, with ]\Ir. Nelson
the botanist, and a few inferior officers. After a short consultation, it was
deemed expedient to put back to the Friendly Islands ; and having reached
the coast of one of them, they landed, in hopes of improving their stock of
provisions. For several days they continued unmolested ; but at length,
on the 30th of April, they were attacked by the natives with such violeni-*
.'^^^53r~^
^A-ey.yflu/i/ny^ c/ ym^y^Sou/^t^i
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 323
that one man was killed, and several wounded. They were, therefore,,
compelled immediately to sheer off; and it became now the subject of
inquiry and deliberation as to what should be their next place of destination.
Otaheite was proposed, as it was supposed that the natives would be
friendly to them ; but the apprehension of falling in Avith the Bounty
determined them against this course ; and with one assent they made up
their minds to shape their course for Timor, a settlement belonging to the
Dutch.
To effect this enterprise they were compelled to calculate the distance
with a view to the apportionment of their provisions ; and having disco-
vered that it was near four thousand miles, they agreed that their rations
should hot exceed an ounce of bread and a gill of water a day for each
man. Upon this scanty allowance they subsisted without any other nourish-
ment until the 6th of June, when they made the coast of New Holland,
and collected a few shell-fish ; and with this small relief they held on
their way to Timor, which they reached on the 12th, after being forty-six
days in a crazy open boat, so confined in its dimensions as to prevent any
of them lying down for repose, and without the least awning to protect
them from the rain, which fell almost incessantly for forty days ; a heavy
sea and squally weather augmenting their misery during a considerable
j)art of the time.
On their reaching Timor, they received every assistance from the gover-
nor; and having remained until the 20th of August to recruit their
strength, they procured a vessel, in which they took their passage to
Batavia. They reached that port on the 2nd of October, and from thence
they immediately embarked for the Cape of Good Hope. Captain Bligh
quitted the Cape in tlie month of December, and having reached England,
he communicated the particulars of tlie mutiny to the Admiralty, and
H. M. S. the Pandora was immediately despatched in search of the
mutineers.
It was not until the 25th of April 1792, that despatches were received
from Captain Edwards, stating that on the Pandora appearing off Otaheite,
two men swam from the shore, and solicited to be taken on board. They
proved to be two of the Bounty's mutineeirs, and gave intelligence where
fourteen of their companions were concealed on the island. A part of the
Pandora's crew were sent in search of them ; and after some resistance
they were taken and brought prisoners on board.
It then turned out that Christian had taken upon himself the command
of the Bounty immediately on the captain's having quitted her, and that
his crew consisted of twenty-five men. When the Pandora arrived,
Christian, with the other nine mutineers, had previously sailed in the
Bounty to some remote island, and every exertion to discover their retreat
proved ineffectual. On her return home, the Pandora struck upon a reef
of rocks in Endeavour Straits, Her crew escaped from their perilous situa-
tion to an island in the Straits, except thirty-three men, and three of the
Bounty's people, who perished by the boat oversetting. Captain Edwards
was reduced to the necessity of sending one of his officers and some seamen
in a small boat to Timor, which they were fourteen days in reaching, and
where a vessel was procured, which proceeded to the assistance of the
reninindcr of the crew.
So much had the mutineers of the Bounty conformed to the custom and
VOL. I. . TJ u
,
380 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
manners of Otaheite, that wlien two men of Christian's crew swam off to
the Pandora, tliey were so tattooed, and exhibited so many other character-
istic stains, that on beiufj first received on board, the Pandora's people took
them for natives of the isUmd. The names of the above metamorphosed
mutineers were, Peter Heywood, a midshipman, and Joseph Coleman, the
armourer ; the latter of whom, Captain Bligh observes, " was detained bv
Christian contrary to his inclination."
On the 1:2th of September a court-martial commenced on board the
Duke, in Portsmoutli harbour, on Joseph Coleman, Charles Norman,
Thomas 3Iackintosh, Peter Heywood, Isaac ]\Iorris, John IMillward,
William ]Muspratt, Thomas Birkett, Thomas Ellison, and Michael Burn.
The evidence for the prosecution closed on Friday night, the 1 4th,* and the
Court indulged the prisoners till ^Monday to give in their defence ; and on
Tuesday took the whole into their consideration, when they were pleased
to pass sentence of death on Heywood, Morris, jNIillward, Muspratt,
Birkett, and Ellison, the two first of whom the Court recommended to
mercy. Coleman, Norman, Mackintosli, and Buin were acquitted, and
discharged.
On the 29th of October, Millward, Birkett, and Ellison, were executed
on board the Brunswick : Heywood and Morris were pardoned, in compli-
ance with the recommendation of the Court.
NATHANIEL LILLEY, JAMES MARTIN, MARY BRIANT,
WILLIAM ALLEN, AND JOHN BUTCHER.
CONVICTED OF RETURNING FROM TRANSPORTATION.
The oftence with which these prisoners stood charged was that of
returning from transportation at a period earlier than that to which by
their sentences they were required to remain in the penal settlement to
which they had been sent.
Their trial took place on the 8th of July 1792, and the following facta
were proved. It appeared that the prisoners had all been tried in Eng-
land, and scTitenced to undergo various terms of transportation, and in
pursuance of their sentence were sent to Botany Bay. The small settle-
ment which then existed would be hardly recognised in the flourishing
colony which, through the employment of English wealth and enterprise,
now rears its head upon the shores of New Holland ; and it is not sur-
prising that these unhappy persons should have been anxious to escape
from a place where slavery and misery alone awaited them. For this
purpose they formed a species of society or club among themselves, and
having collected together what money they possessed, they entrusted one
of their number, named Briant, the husband of the prisoner 3Iary Briant,
to apply to Captain Schmidt, the commander of a Dutch vessel, who had
recentlv before brouoht a cargo of provisions to the colony, to induce him
to sell them one of his boats, a sail, a quadrant, and the necessary quantity
of provisions for the voyage which they intended to make. The enter-
prise was dangerous to both parties, for it was a felony to aid the escape
of convicts ; but the Dutchman tempted by the bribe, which was con-
aiderable, let them have an old six-oared boat, with a lug-saii, and abou»
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. .'j31
lOOlbs. of rice, and 14 lbs, of pork, with whicli, together witli abour
200lbs. of flour, which tliey purchased of a baker in the colony, they
determined to set sail on their expedition. Having got all tlieir provisions
on board, they started on the night of the 28th March 1791 ; the party
consisting of Briant and his wife and two children, of the ages of one and
three years, the three male prisoners, and also Samuel Bird, James Cox,
and William Martin; the point of their destination being Timor, which by
the nearest run is distant about 1300 miles from the place of their
embarkation.
They were forced to keep along the coast, as much as they could, for
the convenience of procuring supplies of fresh water ; and on these occa-
sions, and when the weather was extremely tempestuous, they would
sometimes sleep on shore, hauling their boat on the land. The savage
natives, wherever they put on sliore, came down in numbers to murder
tliem ; and they now found two old muskets, and a small quantity of
powder which Captain Schmidt had given them, particularly serviceable
in firing over the heads of these multitudes, on which they ran ofi" with
great precipitation; but they were always forced to keep a strict watch.
lu lat. 26. 27. they discovered a small uninhabited island, where were
plenty of turtles, which proved a great relief to them ; but they were
very near being lost in landing. On this island they dried as much turtle
as they could carry, which lasted them ten days.
At length, after suffering almost innumerable hardships and dangers,
they landed at Cupang, on the island of Timor, a Dutch settlement, on
Gth June 1791, having sailed considerably more than five thousand miles,
and been ten weeks all but one day in performing this voyage. At
Cupang they informed the governor that they had belonged to an English
ship, which was wrecked on her passage to New South Wales, and he
treated them with great humanity ; but at length overhearing a conversa-
tion among them, he discovered that they were convicts, who had escaped
from the colony in New South Wales.
On the 29th of August 1791, the Pandora, of twenty guns, Captain
Edwards, was wrecked on a reef of rocks near New South AVales. The
captain, and those of the crew who were saved, got to Cupang in their
boats ; when the governor gave the captain an account of the eleven
persons he had there, and of the conversation he had overheard.
The captain took them with him to Batavia, where William Briant and
his eldest child died. The rest were put on board a Dutch ship, in which
Captain Edwards sailed with them, for the Cape of Good Hope. On
their passage to the Cape, James Cox fell overboard and was drowned,
and Samuel Bird and William Martin died. At the Cape, Captain
Edwai-ds delivered the survivors to Captain Parker, of the Gorgon, and
they sailed with him for England ; and in their passage home, the younger
child of Mary Briant died.
On their trials the prisoners described the hardships which they had
undergone in the most piteous manner ; and the Court, in consideration of
their sufferings, ordered them to remain on their former sentence, uutd
they should be discharged by the course of law.
332 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
THE REY. RICHARD BURGH, JOHN CU3IMIXGS, THOMAS
TOWXLEY M'CAN, ESQRS., JAMES DAVIS, AND JOHN
BOURNE.
CONVICTED OF A COXSPIRACY TO BtTRX THE KING'S BENCH PRISON.
The prisoner Burgh, who is first named in this case, was the private
chaplain, and a relation to the speaker of the Irish House of Commons;
the other prisoners wei-e persons who were entitled to be ranked as gentle-
men, and it appears that they were all confined in the King's Bench
Prison for debt.
On the ti'al of the conspirators, the Attorney- general said he flattered
himself it would be found that he had done no more than his duty in
brino-ino' the several defendants before the Court. The offence with wliicli
they were charged was of the utmost importance to the peace and safety
of the capital ; for it not only had for its object the demolition of the
Kinor's Bench Prison, but involved the burning of other houses, bloodshed,
and murder. He lamented that five persons, all of education and respect-
able families, should, by their folly and imprudence, to call it by the
softest name, bring themselves into such an unfortunate situation ; one
was a reverend divine, another an oflicer in the army, another had been in
the profession of the law, and the others were of respectable parents, and,
as he understood, set out in the world with fair prospects of being
honourable and useful members of the community. The Attorney-general
further said, that this case was pregnant with the most alarming circum-
stances, which would be better detailed by the witnesses than described
by him.
Edward Webb was then examined, and he said he knew all the pri-
soners ; he was introduced into a society, called " The Convivials," held
in a room in the King's Bench Prison, of which the prisoners were mem-
bers. M'Can expressed himself very freely upon the subject of Lord
Rawdon's bill, then pending, respecting insolvent debtors, and said if that
bill did not pass into a law, he and others were determined to do some-
thing to liberate themselves, and that there was a scheme in agitation for
that puq:)ose, but that the parties were sworn to secrecy, and therefore he
could not divulge it ; the witness said he might safely communicate the
business to him"; and the prisoners, Cummings and Davis, being present,
M'Can said, the plan in wliich he and the other prisoners were con-
cerned, was to effect their own enlargement by demolishing the walls of
the prison, as they were determined not to be confined within those walls
for debt ; the execution of this plan would, however, depend upon the
rejection of Lord Rawdon's bill : after they had effected their escajie by
settinof fire to the prison, they would then go to the Fleet Prison, and
liberate the prisoners ; after which they should proceed to the houses of
Lords Thurlow and Kenyon, which they would destroy. Davis said he
should not hesitate, himself, to blow out the brains of those noble lords ;
tlie same witness saw the other defendants, who conversed upon the sub-
ject ; and it was proposed to procure some sailors to assist them. Tliia
scheme was, however, defeated by the vigilance of the marshal, who sent
for the guards and had the prison searched. The witness soon afterwards
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 333
saw the prisoners IM'Can, Cummings and Davis, who said that they were
defeated in their former sclieme, and that they were determined to put
some other plot into execution ; and, on the next day, Cummings, who
was nick-named "the Captain," said that the best phm would be "to
blow the d — d walls up." He then conducted the witness to the bake-
house, and pointed to a place where the drain was opened, saying, that
he meant to introduce a box into it, containing 501bs. weight of gun-
powder ; and that he had planned how the tubes, by which the fire
should be conveyed to it, should run. lie then asked tlie witness to get
the box made ; and the plan having been communicated to M'Can and
Davis, they declared that it would be " glorious," and that they would
lose their lives in the attempt. Bourne was then acquainted with the plot,
as he had some gunpowder, and he acquiesced in it ; and it was deter-
mined that, as he had not got enough powder, a motion should be made
at the next meeting of the Convivials for a subscription of five shillings
each to buy more, under the pretence that it was to fee counsel, to know
whether the marshal had any right to enter their rooms when he pleased.
It was then further agreed that the powder should be deposited in a hole
in the floor of Burgh's room, which was looked upon as the best place of
concealment ; and that on the day of the " explosion," M'Can and Bourne
were to get np a sham fencing-match, in order to give all the prisoners an
opportunity of being collected together and making their esca])e in a body.
The day fixed upon for the completion of the sclieme was Sunday, and it
was detei'mined that seven o'clock should be the hour of the train being
tired, because there were generally a great number of strangers in the
prison then ; but the whole affiiir being in the mean time communicated
to the marshal, the plot was put an end to, by the apprehension of the
prisoners, and the seizure oftheir powder.
Other witnesses confirmed this testimony, and the prisoners were found
guilty.
On Tuesday, 12th February 1793, they were placed at the bar to
receive judgment, and were severally sentenced to three years' imprison
ment in difierent jails.
LAURENCE JONES,
INDICTED FOR ROBBERY.
This unfortunate man was a native of London, where he received a good
education, and moved in genteel society, but having been guilty of some
fraudulent practices, he was discharged from the situation which he held.
Being now driven to " seek his fortune," he determined to commence
swindler, and having a considerable sum of money left him by a relation,
he took a very handsome house in St. James's, had it elegantly furnished,
and kept his carriage and servants.
During his abode here he defrauded Mr. Hudson, a silversmith, of plate,
tt) the value of near three thousand pounds; JMr. Kempton, a mercer, of
silks, and other goods, to a large amount; and Mr. Bailey, a watchmaker
and jeweller, of a gold repeater, and other goods, to the value of three hun-
dred pounds.
334 THE NEW NEWGATE GALEXDAR.
The time of payment coming on, and suspicion being entertained of ftis
honesty, he thought it time to decamp, and he effected his purpose just in
time to avoid a warrant out against him.
After this he lived privately for some time, that suspicion might die
away before he again began his fraudulent practices, which he carried on
with his usual success, till the occurrence of the affair for which he was
condemned; the particulars of which are as follow: —
Mr. Campbell, the collecting clerk to Vere, Lucadou, and Co., bankers,
in Lombard-street, in the course of his business called at a house in Hatton-
garden for the pui'pose of demanding payment of a bill. No sooner had he
knocked at the door than it was opened by a person, in appearance a gen-
tleman, who desired him to walk into tlie counting-house, and, having en-
tered, a man came behind liim, and covered his head and face over with a
thick cap, so that he could see nothing. He was then thrown on the floor,
and wrapped in a green baize, in which condition he was bound hand and
foot, and carried down stairs. His assailants now proceeded to rob him of
his pocket-book, with bank-notes and bills to the amount of nine hundred
pounds, and having secured the money, they took measures to prevent a
discovery before they could receive the money for the bills, &c. which they
had stolen.
They first laid their victim flat on his back on a board, and chained him
hand and foot, and then carried him down stairs into a back kitchen, where
they chained him to the bars of a grate, threatening that if he made a noise
they would blow his brains out. Then, after placing before him some
bread, some ham, and some water, they left him.
In this condition he remained for about eight hours, not daring to make
the least noise, expecting every moment to be murdered if he spoke : but
Providence preserved him from this dreadful fate; for, hearing no more of
them for so many hours, he at last had the courage to call out, and he at
lencrth succeeded in alarming a man who was at work in a house behind
that in which he was confined. The fellow had the resolution to break
open the door of the house from whence the noise proceeded, when, directed
by the cry, he went down stairs, and there discovered the unfortunate j\Ir.
Campbell almost expiring, and exhausted with struggling and crying out.
Jones was afterwards apprehended by Jealous and Kennedy, ofiicers of
Bow-street, at the King's Arms, in I3ridge-street, "Westminster, and on
being seen by Mr. Campbell, he was immediately recognised by him as one
of the men by whom he had been robbed.
Being committed to Newgate, he was afterwards tried, and found guilty,
when he received sentence, and was ordered for execution on AVednesday,
December 8, 1793, in Hatton-garden, near the house where he committed
the robbery; but on the Saturday previous, about six o'clock in the morn-
ing, when the turnkey entered the cell to prepare him to hear the con-
demned sermon and to receive the sacrament, he found him dead. It ap-
peared that he had made several attempts on his life before, but was pre-
vented: and the manner in which he at last accomplished his purpose was
very extraordinary: he had taken the knee-strings with which his fetters
were supported, and tied them round his neck; then, tying the other end
to the ring to which his chain was fastened, he placed his feet against the
wall, and strangled himself. The coroner's jury pronounced a verdict of
Felo de se.
THE NEW NEAVGATE CALENDAR. 335
In consequence of this verdict, the body was, on Wednesday morning,
carried out of Newgate, extended upon a plank on the top of a cart, his face
being covered with a cloth, and his clothes being upon his person, and in
that condition, with a stake driven through his body, he was thrown into
a pit, which was dug at the end of Hatton-garden, at the brow of Holborn
hill, and buried.
ROBERT WATT AND DAVID DOWNIE.
CONVICTED OF HIGH TREASON.
We are now arrived at an alarming period in the modern history of
our coimtry. Just engaged in the war with France, we were perplexed
with disaffection at home, and threatened with invasion by our enemv.
Confederate bodies of dissatisfied men were formed, fi'om London U)
Edinburgh, and a systematic course of treason and correspondence was
maintained until government stretched out its powerful arm to defeat their
plans.
Watt and Downie were principals in the Scottish conspiracy, and their
trial came on before the High Court of Justiciary, at Edinburgh, on the
3d of September 1794. Watt was first tried, when Mr. Anstruther stated
the case on the part of the Crown. He began by observing, tliat such was
the peculiar happiness of that country (Scotland), that they had been
unacquainted with the law of treason for nearly half a century.
The laws of treason were now the same in England and Scotland, and
the duty of the subjects of both kingdoms should be the same. Scotland,
in this instance, had reaped much benefit by the Union, as her laws of
treason, previous to that period, were much mox-e severe. The act of Ed-
ward III. stated three distinct species of treason: 1. Compassing and ima-
gining the death of the king; 2. Levying war against him; 3. Assisting
his enemies. He would not trouble the Court or Jury with the two last:
for the single species of treason charged in the present case was the com-
passing and imagining the death of the king; which was defined by the
conceiving such a design; not the actual act, but the attempt to effl'ct it.
But the law which thus anxiously guarded the sovereign was equally fa-
vourable to the subject; for it did not affecthim until that imagination was
fully proved before '•'' men of his condition." An overt act of treason was
the means used for efi"ectuating the purpose of the mind: it was not neces-
sary to prove a direct attempt to assassinate the king; for the crime was
the intention, and the overt act the means used to effect it.
After explaining more fully the distinct species of treason which applied
to the present case, Mr. Anstruther said that he trusted that if he could
prove any design whereby the king's life was put in jeopardy, that would
be considered an overt act. He should now state the facts, upon which
these principles of law were to be founded. The present conspiracy was
not that of a few inconsiderable individuals; it had risen indeed from small
beginnings, from meetings for pretended reforms. It had been fostered by
seditious correspondence, the distribution of libellous writings, and had at
last risen to a height, which, but for the vigilance of the administration,
might have deluged the country, from one end to the other, with blonl.
336 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
The proceedings of these societies, calling, or rather miscalling, themselves
Friends of the People, were well known: their first intention was appa-
rently to obtain reform; but this not answering their purpose, they pro-
ceeded to greater lengths. He meant to detail the general plans and de-
signs formed among the seditious, and then to state how far the prisoners
were implicated in them.
The first dawnirig of this daring plan was in a letter from Hardy, secre-
tary to the London Corresponding Society ; to Skirving, the secretary to
the Friends of the People in Scotland. He wrote that, as their petitions
had been unsuccessful, they must use separate and more efi"ectual measures ;
and Skirving answered, and admitted the necessity of more effectual mea-
sures, and said that he foresaw the downfall of this government. Here
also was the first notice of a Convention; a measure which it was no won-
der tliey were fond of, when they saw its effects in a neighbouring kingdom
(France). They meant not to petition Parliament, but to proceed in their
own plan, and to supersede the existing government of the country: and,
in that case, the king's life was put in danger.
Soon after, a Convention, a body unknown to the laws of this country,
met; and in this there would have been little harm, had their views been
peaceable; but their objects were avowedly unconstitutional, for their in-
tention was to carry on their plans by force, and thus virtually to lay
aside the prerogative of the king. This convention met, using all the terms
and regulations adopted by the convention of another country. They
meant not to apply to Parliament; for whenever that was mentioned, they
proceeded to the order of the day. They resolved to oppose every act of
Parliament which they deemed contrary to the spirit of the Constitution,
and were determined to sit, until compelled to rise by a force superior to
their own.
The Convention, indeed, was dispersed by the spirited conduct of a ma-
gistrate, (Provost Elder,) but another Convention was attempted to be
called, who were to frame their own laws, and to be independent of the
Legislature; or, as they said, independent of their plunderers, enemies, and
oppressors, meaning the King, Lords, and Commons: their resolutions
would prove that they meant to create a government of their own, to do
away the authority of what they called hereditary senators, and packed
majorities; all which proved the intention of putting the king's life in
danger.
But what, it might be said, was all this to the prisoner at the bar? who,
surprising as it might appear, about two yeai's before wrote letters to Mr.
Secretary Dundas, offering to give information as to certain designs of the
Friends of the People. Those letters were answered by that honourable
gentleman with that propriety which had ever marked his public conduct.
The prisoner then corresponded with the Lord Advocate, but since Sep-
tember 179-3, this correspondence had ceased. Previous to that period, the
prisoner was not a member of the Society of Friends of the People, nor of
the British Convention ; but his accession since to its measures, and the
calling of another Convention, could be substantiated. A Committee of
Correspondence, of which the prisoner was a member, was instituted by a
new Convention, whose object it was to carry into effect tlie views of the
last British Convention, and to elect delegates to a new one. Mr. Watt
attended this committee, and coincided in its measures, which were ex-
THE NEW NEWOATE CALENDAR. 337
pressly to supersede the Legislature. The prisoner had moved f(jr a Com-
mittee of Union ; and another was appointed, called the Committee of Ways
and Cleans; of hoth which he was a member. This last was a Secret
Committee, kept no minutes, was permanent, and empowered to collect
money to support " the great cause." Mr. Downie was appointed trea-
surer, and it was to be the medium through which all instructions and di-
rections were to be given to all friends of the people throughout the king-
dom, and was to procure information of the number of those that would
spare no exertions to support the great cause. They corresponded with
Hardy respecting the calling of a new Convention, which was to follow
up the purposes of the old one; and, as the prisoner was present, he was
in this way coupled with the British Convention.
Their next attempt was to debauch the minds of the soldiers, and to ex-
cite them to mutiny; for which purpose a paper was printed, and circu-
lated among a regiment of Fencibles then at Dalkeith. This paper, which
was evidently seditious, was brought home to the prisoner, for the types
from which it was printed were found in his house, and a copy traced from
him into the hands of a soldier.
The next charge to be brought against the prisoner, and the committe
of which he was a member, was a distinct and delil)erate plan to overturn
the existing government of the country. The plan proposed was this: — A
lire was to be raised near the Excise-office (Edinburgh), which would re-
quire the attendance of the soldiers in the Castle, who were to be met
there by a body of the friends of the people ; another party of whom were
to issue from the West Bow, to confine the soldiers between two fires, and
cut off their retreat; the Castle was next to be attempted; the judges (par-
ticularly the Lord Justice Clerk) were to be seized; and all the public
banks were to be secured. A proclamation was then to be issued, ordering
all the farmers to bring in their grain to market as usual; and enjoining all
country gentlemen to keep within their houses, or three miles from them,
under penalty of death. Tlien an address was to be sent to his majesty,
commanding him to put an end to tlie war, change the ministers, or take
the consequences. Such was the plan of the Committee of Ways and Means,
as proposed by the prisoner.
Previous to this, it should have been mentioned that all the friends oi
the people were to be armed; for which purpose, one Fairley was despatched
round the country to levy contributions, and disperse seditious pamphlets;
for which he received particular instructions from the prisoner. Reports
were spread tlirough tlie same channel that the Goldsmiths' Hall Associ-
ation were arming, and that it was necessary for the friends of the people
to arm also, for they would be butchered either by them or the French. It
was proved that the prisoner gave orders to Robert Orrock to make four
thousand pikes; and also to one Brown for the same purpose. These were
to be used for completing the great plan; and Fairley 's mission was to in-
form the country of these intended proceedings. Another representative
body was also formed, called " collectors of sense and money," who were to
have the distribution of the pikes, and to command the different parties-
Mr. Anstruther then recapitulated shortly the different heads, and con-
cluded an elaborate and most clear and distinct pleading of more than two
hours and a half, l>y requesting the jury to lay no farther stress on what
he had said than it should be proved, as it was meant merr'.y as a clue to
VOL. I. XX
338 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
the evidence which should be brought before them. Witnesses were then
called who spoke to the facts alluded to by the learned counsel, and who
proved to the fullest extent the charge made against the prisoner.
Tiio evidence for the Crown being closed,
Mr. W. Erskine, junior counsel for the prisoner, proceeded to open the
defence. He said that he would rest his defence upon the correspondence
carried on between the Right Hon. Henry Dundas, the lord -advocate, and
the prisoner, by which it would appear that he had attended the meetings of
the Friends of the People with no other view than a design to give infor-
mation of their proceedings. A letter from the prisoner to Mr. Secretary
Dundas was read, which stated in substance that, as he did not approve of
the dangerous principles which then prevailed in Scotland, and was
friend to the constitution of his country, he thought it his duty to com-
municate to him, as a good subject, what information he could procure of
the proceedings of those who styled themselves " Friends of the People,"
From an acquaintance with several of the leading men among them, he
flattered himself he had this in his power ; and he then went on to men-
tion some of the names of those leading men in Perth, Dundee, and Edin-
burgh. In the first of these places, he said, he had been educated, and had
resided in the two last for a considerable number of years. It concluded
with enjoining secrecy.
To this letter an answer was returned which was also read. It acknow-
ledged the receipt of Mr. Watt's ; and after expressing a hope that things
w^ere not so bad as he represented, desired him to go on, and he might
depend upon his communications being kept perfectly secret. Another
letter from Mr. Dundas to Mr. M'Ritchie, the prisoner's agent, was next
read in answer to one from Mr. M'Ritchie, requesting of J\lr. Dundas what
letters he had of the prisoner's. The answer was that all tlie letters he had
received from Mr. AVatt had been delivered to the lord-advocate.
The Lord- Advocate being sworn, in exculpation, he gave a distinct account
of the transactions which he had had with the prisoner. Fie had conversed
with him several times at his own lodgings ; and he had at one time given
him some information which he thought of importance. Tliis was respecting
the disaffection of some dragoons at Perth, which upon inquiry turned out
to be ill-founded. In March 1793, his lordship said an offer had been
made to him to disclose some important secrets, provided he would give
the prisoner 1000^. This he absolutely refused. However, some time
after the prisoner having informed him that he was much pressed for money
to retrieve a bill of 30/., his lordship, who was then in London, not wishing
he should be distressed for such a small sum, sent him an order for the
payment of it. All this happened previous to the meeting of the conven-
tion, since which time he did not recollect to have seen or corresponded
with the prisoner.
Upon this evidence it was contended by Mr. Hamilton, that the prisoner
was engaged as a spy for government ; and it was well known that a spy
w^as obliged to assume not only the appearance of tliose whose secrets he
meant to reveal, but even to take part in their proceedings in order to
prevent a discovery. A spy in an army, he said, was obliged not only to
assume tlie uniform of the enemy, but even to appear in arms ; and it would
be exceedingly hard indeed, if taken in a conflict, that he should be
punished for diseharging his duty. He concluded with lioping the jury
would bring in a verdict finding the charges not proved.
HE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 339
The Lord-President, af.er clearly defining the laws of treason, summed
up the evidence, narratinj- and explaining the vaiious parts with much
candour, and leaving it entirely to the jury to return such a verdict as their
judgment should direct.
The jury withdrew about half-past five o'clock in the morning, and in
about five minutes returned with a verdict — Guilty,
The trial lasted nearly twenty -two hours.
The case of Downie afterwards came on ; and the jury after some time
found him guilty, reconciling themselves to this verdict, by unanimously
consenting to recommending him to mercy, which they did in a very
strong manner.
Shortly after, the following awful sentence of the Court was passed upon
these unfortunate men : —
" Robert Watt and David Downie, you have been found guilty of high
treason by your peers. The sentence of the Court is, therefore, that you
be taken from the place whence you came, from thence you shall be drawn
on a sledge to the place of execution, on Wednesday the 15th of October,
there to hang by your necks till you are both dead ; your bowels to be taken
out and cast in your faces ; and each of your bodies to be cut in four
quarters, to be at the disposal of his Majesty : and the Lord have mercy
on your souls !"
The unfortunate prisoners received the dreadful sentence with much firm-
ness and composure, and were immediately conducted to the Castle.
The prisoner Downie subsequently received a respite, and his punish-
ment was changed for that of transportation for life ; but Watt was
ordered to be executed on the 15th of October.
, On the appointed day, therefore, at half-past one o'clock, the two junior
magistrates, with white rods in their hands, the Rev. Principal Baird, and
a number of constables, attended by the town-officers, and the citv-wuard
lining the streets, walked in procession from the Council-chamber to the
east end of Castle-hill, when a message was sent to the shexifts in the
Castle, that they were there waiting to receive the prisoner.
The prisoner was immediately placed on a hurdle, with his back to the
horse ; and the executioner, with a large axe in his hand, took his seat
opposite him at the further end of the hurdle.
The procession then set out from the Castle, the sherifTs walkinor in
front, a number of county constables surrounding the hurdle, and the
military keeping off the crowd. In this manner they proceeded until thev
joined the magistrates, when the military returned to the Castle, and then
the procession was conducted to the place of execution.
When they had reached the Tolbooth door, the prisoner was taken from
the hurdle, and carried into the prison, where a considerable time was
spent in devotional exercise. He then came out upon the platform,
attended by the magistrates, sheriffs. Principal Baird, &c.; and after a
short time further being spent in prayer, he mounted the drop-board, and
■was immediately launched into eternity.
When the body was taken down it was stretched upon a table ; and the
executioner, with two blows of the axe, severed off the head, which was
received into a basket, and then held up to the multitude, while the
executioner called aloud, " There is the head of a traitor, and so perish all
trait ;>r8 ! "
340 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
Tlie body and head were then placed in a coffin and removed.
The execution was conducted throughout with the greatest solemuity ,'
and the prisoner appeared to be deeply sensible of the awful situation iu
which he was placed. He was so emaciated that his appearance was
entirely changed since his trial.
. Robert Watt was born in the shire of Kincardine, and was at the time
of his execution about thirty-six years old. He was the natural son of a Mr.
Barclay, a gentleman of fortune and respectability ; but like most other
children of illegitimate parentage, he was brought up and educated under
the name of his mother. He was, at about ten years of age, sent to Perth,
where he received a very good education ; and at the age of sixteen he
engaged himself with a lawyer in that place ; but being of a religious
disposition, he was disgusted at his profession, and soon withdrew from
the desk of his master. Soon after, he went to Edinburgh, and engaged
as a clerk in a paper warehouse, where he lived happily and respectably
for some years ; but having a desire to share in the profits as well as the toils
of the business, he wrote to his father, and prevailed upon him to assist him
with some money, to enable him to procure a partnership with his master.
He then made proposals to the above purpose, which were, however,
rejected by his employer ; but being provided with money, he entered into
the wine and spirit trade. His success in business continued very promis-
ing, until he was almost ruined by the commencement of the war. At
this period his acquaintance with the Friends of the People commenced.
Its unfortunate termination is already made known to our readers.
ARCHIBALD HAMILTON ROWAN, ESQ.
CONVICTED OF PUBLISHING A SEDITIOUS LIBEL.
Although we do not consider the numerous instances of conviction for
the publication of seditious libels, which took place in Dublin about this
time, as being strictly within the plan of our work, yet the extraordinary
and romantic circumstances attending the escape of Mr. Rowan induce us
to give his case insertion. The agitation produced both in England and
Ireland, immediately after the French revolution, in which many persons
sought to excite the people to follow the example of their Gallic neighbours,
produced a number of prosecutions, the recital of which alone would be
sufficient to fill our volume.
Among other convictions which took place was that »f Mr. Archibald
Hamilton Rowan, who was found guilty in the Court of King's Bench,
Dublin, on the 29th of January 1794, of publishing in the year 1792 a
false, scandalous, and malicious libel against the Government, purporting
to be an address from a society called the United Irishmen of Dublin to
the Volunteers of Ireland, and signed by jNIr. Rowan as their secretary, —
an offi^nce for which he was sentenced to be imprisoned for two years, to
pay a fine of 500^., and to find security in the amount of 4000^. for his
good behaviour for seven years.
It appears that after about two or three months of the term of imprison-
ment had expired, William Jackson, a divine of some notoriety in England,
and several others were arrested on a charge of high treason, in which it
appeared probable that Rowan would be implicated. He therefore deter*
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 341
mined on effecting his escape ; and the manner in which he accomplished it
nas been thus narrated : —
Having discovered, on the 28th of April 1794, the extent of the danger
in which he was involved, he arranged a plan of flight, to be put into execu-
tion on the night of the 1st of May. He had the address to prevail on
the jailer of Newgate, who knew nothing farther of his prisoner than that
he was under sentence of confinement for a political libel, to accompany
him at night to his own house. They were received by Mrs. Rowan, who
had a supper prepared in the front room of the second floor. The supper
over, the prisoner requested the jailer's permission to say a word or two
in private to his wife in the adjoining room. The latter consented, on
condition of tbe door between the two rooms remaining open ; and he had
so little suspicion of what was meditated, that, instead of examininor the
state of the other room, he contented himself with shifting his chair at tlie
supper-table, so as to give him a view of the open door- way. In a few
seconds his prisoner was beyond his reach, having descended by a single
rope, which had been slung from the window of the back chamber, into
the street. In his stable he found a horse ready saddled, and a peasant's
outside coat to disguise him ; and with these he posted to the house of
Mr. Matthew Dowling, his attorney, who was aware of his design, and
was under an engagement to aid him, both by his advice and personal
assistance. On his arrival at the attorney's house, he found it full of
company ; but the host coming to him pointed out the imprudence of
his giving him shelter, and directed him to wait for him at the Rotunda,
a building in Sackville-street, where he would join him, as soon as he
could dispose of his guests. For an hour and a half, tormented by hopes
and fears, did the fugitive await the coming of his friend ; but Irish gen-
tlemen in those days, as well as in m.odern times, were not the men to quit
their bottle; and it was not until the expiration of that time that 5lr.
Dowling made his appearance. He at length arrived, however ; and after
a short and anxious conference, it was determined that it was best for
Mr. Rowan to proceed at once to the house of a friend, a Mr. Sweetman,
about four miles off, at the north of the Bay of Dublin, whence it was
anticipated he might in a day or two make his escape by boat. He
accordingly proceeded thither with all possible speed, but three days
elapsed before the design could be carried out. Mr. Sweetman's pleasure-
boat was then manned by some fellows who lived on the spot, and who
undertook to convey their passenger to the coast of France. They put to
sea at night ; but a gale of wind coming on, they were compelled to put
back, and take shelter under the Hill of Howth. They lay there at
anchor until the following morning ; and they were then about again to
proceed on their voyage, when a small revenue cruiser sailing by threw into
the boat copies of a proclamation, which had issued, offering a reward of
2000/. for the apprehension of the fugitive. The bills were read, but no
remark made ; and in the bustle attending the getting the little vessel
under way, no further notice was taken of them. AVhen they had reached
mid-channel, however, a second inspection of them took place, and the
unfortunate exile beheld the brows of his crew contracted, as they looked
from the printed papers to him, apparently engaged in comparing the
description which was given of the fugitive with his person. He knew
the generous character of the Irish peasantry. He was himself an Iribh-
342 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
man ; he knew the loyalty and devotion of their hearts to persons in
distress ; and he could calculate upon receiving from them, as strangers,
that aid which they would not have more readily given to their own
brothers. His course was immediately determined upon ; he admitted
that their conjectures were right — that he was the runaway, Hamilton
Rowan ; but he added, " You are Irishmen." The answer which he
received was characteristic of their country. They gave a cheer, threw
the proclamation overboard, and set about hastening their passage to the
place of tlieir destination.
On the third morning, a little after daybreak, they arrived in sight of
St. Paul de Leon, a fortified town on tlie coast of Bretagne ; and as the
sun rose, a thick mist, which had hovered over them, was dissipated, and
they discovered, about two miles astern, the British Channel-fleet moving
along under easy sail ; through which their little vessel had passed unper-
ceived. The party soon efiiicted a landing, and, being seen, were seized
and conducted to prison as suspected spies ; but, in a few days, their real
character being explained, an order from the French Government procured
for their liberation ; and the honest crew returned to Dublin with their boat,
while Mr. Rowan proceeded at once to Paris. In a political convulsion,
which subsequently occurred in that city, it was his fate once more to effect
his escape in a wherry down the Seine, in which he was unaccompanied
by any person ; and although the banks of that river were lined with
military, he answered their challenges with so much address, that he was
permitted to pass unmolested. Having reached a French port, he
embarked for the United States of America, and there, unaffected by the
political changes of his own country, he continued to live for several
years.
At length, the merits of his personal character prevailed against the
remembrance of his political aberrations ; and an act of royal clemency,
generously conceded without any humiliating conditions, restored him once
more to his country ; where he continued to reside, in the bosom of
domestic quiet, and in the habitual exercise of every virtue. He had the
satisfaction, too, in his old age, of finding that, in a public point of view,
his debt of gratitude to the Crown had not been wholly unpaid. In his
eldest son. Captain Hamilton, of the Cambrian frigate, he gave to the
British navy one of its most gallant and distinguished commanders.
WILLIAM BUTTERWORTH AND FRANCIS JENNISON.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
The case of these wretched culprits is so disgusting in its details, that
we feel justified in giving it only in as short a form as possible.
At the Hants assizes, in the beginning of August 1794, William But-
terworth and Francis Jennison, two convicts at Cumberland Fort, were
tried before Mr. Justice Grose and ]\Ir. Baron Thompson, for the murder
of Mr. John Groundwater, one of the persons deputed to look after them.
The circumstances of this murder were of the most brutal and atrocious
nature. These hardened wretches, on being reprimanded by Mr. Ground-
water, who threatened to report them for ill-behaviour, swore that they
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 349
would rip his bowels out ; and were heard by anotlier of the convicts
debating about the manner of perpetrating the murder. In accordance
with a resolution which tlioy arrived at, about six in the evening of the
same day, tliey fell upon him with two iron shovels, with which they had
been at work in spreading gravel, and with which they gave him three
such wounds on the skull, that his brains fell out in the quantity of a
double handful. They then struck down one of the shovels upon his neck,
witli intent to sever the head from the body, but, striking against the bone,
it had not the intended eflect. The rest of the convicts ran to the spot,
and one of them caught hold of Butterworth, to prevent his mangling the
body any more ; but, after a struggle, he disengaged himself, ran back to
the unfortunate suft'erer, and, catching up the spade again, gave him several
cuts, saying, " There, damn him, I have done him out and out." On
being remonstrated with for his inhuman conduct, he rejilied that he was
transported for life, and he would rather be hanged than suffer that
sentence. It is a most extraordinary circumstance, established on the
evidence of jNIr. Hill, surgeon, who attended him, that Mr. Groundwater
lived eighteen hours after he had received these grievous wounds, notwith-
standing the brains had fallen out, and a prodigious effusion of blood had
taken place. He never spoke after the second blow was given him, but
the action of the pulse was strong, and respiration continued during the
whole of the eighteen hours above mentioned.
Butterworth, though thus steeled in cruelty, was only nineteen years
old ; his wretched companion was twenty-five. The publicity of the
deed, and the consequent clear evidence of their guilt, would not admit of
their setting up any defence. The jury pronounced them guilty; and they
were sentenced to be executed in three days after in Lanston Harbour,
and their bodies were ordered to be liung in chains in Cumberland Fort.
They were taken from jail at about four o'clock on ]\Ionday morning, and
reached Portsea about eleven. The number of spectators who crowded to
see the execution was immense. Both the prisoners acknowledged that
they alone were the persons who committed the murder, excillpating all the
other convicts from a participation in this horrid offence. Their behaviour
was very penitent, and they seemed to feel sensibly the enormity of their
crime. The execution took place about twelve o'clock, and their bodies
were afterwards hung in chains, pursuant to sentence, near the spot where
the murder was committed.
Both prisoners., it appears, had been convicted of burglary, for which
they were sentenced to death, but had been reprieved on condition of their
being transported for life. They had been at the hulks only about seven
days, when they committed the murder for which they were executed.
ANNE BROADRIC.
INDICTED FOR MURDER.
The case of this unfortunate young woman excited at the time of its
occurrence nearly universal pity.
It appeared that Mr. Errington, the object of her attack, was a gentle-
man of large landed and personal property residing at Grays, in Essex,
aad his name had become well known from the circumstance of his haviag
314 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
Iteen divorced from his wife, a few years before the melancholy event
which we are about to relate. About three years after the termination of
the proceedings in the Ecclesiastical Courts, he became acquainted with
Miss Broadric, who was a young lady possessed of considerable accom-
plishments, of a fine figure, and in personal charms superior to the
generality of her sex. Miss Broadric before this liad lived witli a Captain
Robinson, but it appears that being addressed by ]\Ir. Errington with
great solicitude, she consented to reside with him in the character of his
wife, A mutual attachment sprung up in the course of their connexion ;
but after a lapse of three years, during which they lived together with
every appearance of domestic felicity, Mr. Errington bestowed liis affec-
tions and his hand on a lady of respectability in the neighbourhood,
acquaintino- Miss Broadric that he could see her no more. On her quitting
him, he made what he conceived to be a suitable provision for her future
wants, and she retired apparently deeply grieved at tlie unfortunate change
which had taken place in the feelings of her late protector. On the 11th
September 1794, she wrote a letter to him in the following terms : —
" Dear Errington, — That you have betrayed and abandoned the most
tender and aflfectionate heart that ever warmed a human bosom, cannot be
denied by any person who is in the least acquainted with me. Wretched
and miserable as I have been since you left me, there is still a method re-
maininof that would suspend, for a time, the melancholy sufferings and dis-
tress Avhich I labour under at this moment; and still, inhuman as tliou art,
I am half persuaded, when I tell you the power is in your hands, that you
will not withhold it from me. — What I allude to is the permission of
seeing you once more, and, perhaps, for the last time. If you consider
that the request comes from a woman you once flattered into a belief of her
beino- the sole possessor of your love, you may not perhaps think it unrea-
sonable. Recollect, however, Errington, ere you send a refusal, that the
roarincr of the tempest, and the lightnings from heaven, are not more ter-
rible than the rage and vengeance of a disappointed woman. Hitherto you
can only answer for the weakness and frailty of my nature. There is a
further knowledge of my disposition you must have if you do not grant
me the favour demanded. I wish it to come voluntarily from yourself, or
else I will force it from you. Believe me, in that case I would seek you
in the farthest corner of the globe, rush into your presence, and, with the
same rapture that nerved the arm of Charlotte Cordet, when she assassi-
nated the monster jMarat, would I put an end to the existence of a man,
who is the author of all' the agonies and care that at present oppress the
heart of " Anne Broadkic,"
" P. S. This comes by William (the servant you have discarded on my
account), who has orders to wait for your answer."
Her request being refused, she persisted by letters to endeavour to in-
duce IMr. Errington to permit her once more to see him, but finding him
inexorable, she wrote to him that if nothing could induce him to do her an
act of justice, he must prepare himself for the fatal alternative, as she was
determined that he should not long survive his infidelity.
To this, as well as to the rest of her letters, Mr. Errington preserved a
btrict silence, and in about a month after i\Iiss Broadric carried out her
dreadful resolution. On Friday morning, the 15th of May, she dressed
hsrself elegantly, and going to the Three Nuns Inn, Whitechapel, she took
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 345
her place in the Southend coach, which passed close to Mr. Errington's seat.
Having descended at the avenue-gate, she went towards the house, but
being seen by Mr. Errington, he begged Mrs. Errington to retire for a few
minutes, saying that " his tormentor was coming, but that lie would soon
get rid of Iier." The latter, however, desired him to leave the interview to
her management, and desiring her husband to go into the drawing-room,
she awaited the arrival of j\Iiss Broadric in the parlour. In tlie mean time
the latter had entered the house by the kitchen, and having learned from
the footman that Mr. Errington was at home, she was proceeding up
stairs, attended by the gardener, when she met Mrs. Errington. She de-
manded to see Mr. Errington, and was told that he was not to be seen, but
saying " I am not to be so satisfied ; I know the ways of tliis house too well,
and will search for him:" she rushed up stairs into the drawing-room. She
there found the object of her inquiry, and going up to him she suddenly
drew from her pocket a small brass-barrelled pistol, with a new bagged
fiint, and presenting it to his left side in a direction towards his heart,
exclaimed, '•' Errington, I am come to perform my dreadful promise,"
and she immediately fired. Mrs. Errington, who had followed her, fainted,
but Miss Broadric observing that Mr. Errington did not fall, she said that
she feared she had not despatched him. Mr. Errington demanded to know
how he had deserved such treatment at her hands, but she made no answer,
and the servants, alarmed by the report of the pistol, then coming into the
room, she threw the pistol on the carpet, and exclaimed, laughing, ^ Here,
take me; hang me ; do what you like with me: I do not care now." Mr.
Miller, a surgeon, soon after attended, and found that the ball had pene-
trated the lowest rib, had cut three ribs asunder, and then passed round the
back, and lodged under the shoulder-bone, from whence every effort was
made to extract it, but in vain. Mr. Button, a magistrate, now came, who
took the examination of Mr. Ei-rington after his wound was dressed. He
asked ]\Iiss Broadric what could induce her to commit &uch an act of ex-
treme violence, and her answer was, " That she was determined tliat neither
JVIr. Errington nor herself should long outlive her lost peace of mind !"
3Ir. Errington entreated the magistrate not to detain her in custody, but
let her depart, as he Avas sure he should do well; but this request Miss
Broadric refused to accept, and the magistrate to grant. Her commit-
ment being made out, she was conveyed that evening to Chelmsford jail,
where she remained tolerably composed till she heard of Mr. Errington's
death, when she burst into a flood of tears, and lamented bitterly that she
had been its cause. The coroner's inquest sat on the body on Tuesday,
the 19th of May, and brought in their verdict, " Wilful murder, by the
hands of Anne Broadric." Mr. Errington was in the thirty -ninth year of
his age.
Friday, the 17th of July, was fixed for the trial of the prisoner, and at six
o'clock in the morning, the prisoner was conveyed from the jail, in a chaise,
to a room in the shire-hall; and about ten minutes before the Lord Chief
Baron j\[acdonald, the sheriffs, and magistrates, appeared on the bench, she
was conveyed into the bail-dock in tlie criminal court, attended by three
ladies and her apothecary. She was dressed in mourning, without powder;
and. after the first perturbations were over, occasioned by the concourse of
surrounding spectators, she sat down on a ciiair prepared for her. and waa
tolerably composed, except at intervals, when she discovered violent agita-
VUL. I. Y Y
346 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
tions, as her mind became afFected by various objects and circvimstances.
When the indictment was reading, she paid a marked attention to it; and on
tlie words, " that on the right breast of the said G. Errington she did wilfully
and feloniously inflict one mortal wound," &c, she exclaimed, "• Oh, my
great God ! " and burst into a torrent of tears.
The facts above stated having been proved in evidence, the prisoner's
counsel proceeded to call witnesses in support of her defence, who all joined
in stating, that they had known her repeatedly to exhibit symptoms of
insanity.
This defence was not traversed by the counsel on the other side, and the
Jury, after a few minutes' consideration, returned a verdict of not guilty.
The judges, on leaving the town, after the assizes were over, directed
that Miss Broadric should be examined before two magistrates, that she
mio-ht be safely removed, under their order, to the place of her settlement,
with a particular recommendation annexed thereto, that she might be taken
all possible care of.
THE REV. MR. JACKSON,
CONVICTED OF TREASON.
In connexion with the case of the unfortunate, or rather the fortunate,
Mr. Hamilton Rowan, this case may prove interesting, as showing the ex-
tent to which that gentleman was engaged in plotting against the Govern-
ment. Mr. Jackson was a native of Ireland, and a minister of the Church
of England. Early in life he preached at Tavistock Ciiapel, London, and
for several years resided in chambers in Lyon's Inn; but the emoluments
of his clerical occupation not attbrding him a sufficient subsistence, he ap-
plied his talents to literature, and was for a considerable time editor of a
newspaper, in which situation he made himself very conspicuous. He
afterwards entered into a criminal conspiracy, and Avas tried at Dublin for
high treason, on the :2:3d of April, 1795.
The indictment charged the prisoner with two species of treason, namely,
compassing the kind's death, and adhering to his enemies ; and stated four-
teen overt acts. The Attorney-general opened the prosecution on the part
of the Crown ; and having dwelt at some length on tlie doctrine of treason,
proceeded to substantiate the charges in the indictment, for which purpose
he called Mr. Cockayne, an attorney of London, who deposed that he had
been for a series of years the law-agent and intimate friend of Mr. Jackson,
who a few years since went to France (as the witness understood) to
transact some private business for J\Ir. Pitt, where he resided a consider-
able time. Soon after his return, Mr. Cockayne said he called on Jackson,
who told him in confidence that he had formed a design of going to Ire-
land, to sound the people, for the purpose of procuring a supply of
provisions, &c. from them for the French, and requested him (the witness)
to accompany him. Having accepted the invitation, he immediately
waited on jMr. Pitt, and discovered to him the whole of Mr. Jackson's
plans. The minister thanked him for the information, and hinted that,
as the matter was to become a subject of legal investigation, it would be
necessary for him to substantiate the allegations ; tiie witness in conse-
quence accompanied Mr. Jackson to Ireland, for the purpose of making
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 347
himself acquainted with his proceedings. Shortly after their arrival ia
Duhlin, where they lived together, the prisoner expressed a wish to be
introduced to Mr. Hamilton Rowan, who was then confined in Newgate;
and at length, through the interference of a friend, he obtained an inter-
view, at which Mr. Cockayne was present. In the course of conversation,
the prisoner delivered two papers to Mr, Rowan, fur the purpose of con-
vincing him that he was a person in whom he might confide. From tliat
time an intimacy took place between tliem ; and the witness always
accompanied Mr. Jackson in his visits to Mr. Rowan, and constantly took
a part in tlieir conversation. They agreed, he said, that a person should
be sent to France to procure a force to make a descent on Ireland ; and
Counsellor Wolfe Tone was mentioned as a fit person for that purpose,
who at first appeared to acquiesce, but afterwards declined the office.
Dr. Reynolds was then proposed by Mr. Rowan, but objected to by the
prisoner, as he did not understand the French language. It was, however,
at length agreed that the doctor should undertake the embassy ; but in a
short time, he also refused to enter into the business. On this, it was
agreed that Mr. Jackson should write several letters, which were directed
for a Mr. Stone, of the firm of Lawrence and Co., London. These con-
tained inclosures for houses at Hamburgh and Amsterdam ; and some of
them, to the French agents, described the situation of Ireland at the time,
invited an invasion, and pointed out tlie proper places to land. These
letters having been sent to the Post-office, the witness went to the secre-
tary and informed him of the subject of them, on which they were
detained. Tlie plot, matured thus far, having been discovered, the pri-
soner was taken into custody.
The defence was grounded upon the suggestion, that the evidence
adduced in support of the prosecution was undeserving of credit ; but the
jury found the prisoner guilty.
A motion, in arrest of judgment, was then made by Mr. Curran, who
appeared as counsel for the prisoner, on a point of law ; in consequence of
which, he was remanded. He was brought up again on the 3(»th April ;
when, before the arguments of counsel commenced, he was observed to be
in a sinking state, and an apothecary being called in, he was found to
have taken poison. He expired almost immediately afterwards in the
presence of the Court and Bar.
LEWIS JEREMIAH AVERSHAW.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER, IN SHOOTING A PEACE-OFFICER.
This criminal was one of the most daring and unrepentant sinners that
ever died by the hands of the executioner. Tliere has too frequently been,
among the most hardened, an affected contempt of death, and a fool-
hardiness of behaviour, on their exit from this world, which makes every
one shudder. In this criminal it was peculiarly exemplified.
Avershaw was an old offender, and had committed numerous crimes
which called aloud for justice. He was at length brought to trial at
Croydon, in Surrey, on the 30th of July, 1795, charged on two indict-
ments; one for having, at the Tliree Brewers' public-house, Southwark,
348 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
feloniously shot at, and murdered, David Price, an officer belonging to the
police-office, held at Union Hall, in the Borough ; the other, for having,
at the same time and place, fired a pistol at Bernard Turner, another
officer attached to that office, with intent to murder him. Mr. Garrow,
the leading counsel for the prosecution, opened the case by stating, that
tlie prisoner at the bar, being a person of ill-fame, had been suspected 0/
havinof perpetrated a number of felonies ; and the magistrates of the police-
office in the borough of Southwarh, having received information against
him, sent, as was their duty, an order for his apprehension. To execute
the warrant, the deceased. Price, and another officer, went to the Three
Brewers, a public-house, where they understood he was drinking in com-
pany with some other persons. At the entrance of a parlour in the house
the prisoner appeared in a posture of resistance ; and holding a loaded pistol
in each of his hands he, with threats and imprecations, desired the officers
to stand off, as he would otherwise fire at them. The officers, however,
attempted to rush in and seize him ; on which he discharged both the
pistols at the same instant, lodging the contents of one in the body of
Price, and with the other wounding Turner very severely in the head. Price,
after lanouishing a few hours, died of the wound. Mr. Garrow was very
pathetic and animated in his description of tlie several circumstances com-
posing the shocking act of barbarity. To prove it, he would call four
witnesses, whose evidence, he said, would clearly establish the prisoner's
guilt. He accordingly called Turner, the landlord of the house, a surgeon,
and a fourth witness ; but, as the substance of their evidence is comprised
in the opening of the indictment, it would be superfluous to repeat it.
Turner said positively, that he saw the prisoner discharge the pistols, from
one of which he himself received his wound, and the contents of the other
were lodged in the body of Price, who died very shortly after. The sur-
geon proved that the death was in consequence of the w^ound. Mr,
Knowlys and Mr. Best were counsel for the prisoner ; but the weight of
the evidence against him was too strong to be combated by any exertions.
Mr. Baron Perry n summed up the evidence; and the jury, after a con-
sultation of about three minutes, pronounced the verdict of guilty.
Throuo-h a flaw in the indictment for the murder, an objection was
taken by counsel. This was urged nearly two hours, when Mr. Baron
Perryn intimating a wish to take the opinion of the twelve judges, the
counsel for the prosecution, waving the point for the present, insisted on
the prisoner's being tried on the second indictment, for feloniously
shootino- at Bernard Turner. He was accordingly tried ; and, upon the
testimony of one witness, found guilty on a second capital indictment.
The prisoner, who, contrary to general expectation, had in a great mea-
sure hitherto refrained from his usual audacity, now began with unparal-
leled insolence of expression and gesture, to ask his lordship if he " was to
be murdered by the evidence of one witness?" several times repeating the
question, till the jury returned him — guilty. AYhen Mr. Baron Perryn
put on the black cap, the prisoner, regardless of his dreadful situation,
at the same time put on his hat, observing the judge with contemptuous
looks while he was passing the sentence.
When the constables were removing him from the dock to a coach, he
continued to vent torrents of abuse against the judge and jury, whom he
charged with, as he styled it, his murder. As his desperate disposition
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. ^49
was well known, he was, to prevent resistance, handcuffed, and his thighs
%nd arms also bound strongly together ; in which situation he was -lon-
veyed back to prison. So callous was this ruffian to every degree of feeling,
that on his way to be tried, as he was passing near the usual place of exe-
cution on Kennington Common, he put his head out of the coach window,
and, with all the sangfroid imaginable, asked some of those who guarded
liim, if they did not think he would be Hcisted on that pretty spot by
Saturday ? After receiving sentence of death, he was conducted back to
prison ; where having got some black cherries, he amused himself with
painting on the white walls of the room in which he was confined, various
sketches of robberies which he had committed ; one representing him
running up to the horses' heads of a post-chaise, presenting a pistol at the
driver, and the words, — " D — n your eyes, stop," issuing out of his
mouth ; another exhibited a scene, where he was firing into the chaise ;
a third, wliere the parties had quitted the carriage, and several others, in
which he was described in the act of taking the money from the passen-
gers, being fired at, where his companions were shot dead, &c.
At the place of execution, he appeared entirely unconcerned. He had
a flower in his mouth, his bosom was thrown open, and he kept up an
incessant conversation with the persons who rode beside the cart ; fre-
quently laughing and nodding to others of his acquaintance, whom he
perceived in the crowd.
He suffered August 3, 1795, at Kennington Common.
WILLIAM TILLEY, JOHN CROSSWELL, GEORGE HARD-
WICK, JAMES HAYDEN, JOHN HAWDEN, SIMON
JACOBS, JOHN SOLOMONS, JOHN PHILLIPS, AND
JOHN HENLEY.
CONVICTED OF A CONSPIRACY.
This most extraordinary conspiracy to procure the liberation of a prisoner
occurred on the 4th of April 1795.
It appears that a fellow named Isdwell, a Jew, stood charged with a
forgery on the Stamp-Office, and for security was committed to the custody
of the keeper of the New Prison, Clerkenwell. On the day in question,
he persuaded two of the turnkeys that an aunt of his, who was very rich,
then lay at tlie point of death, and that he had been informed that, could
she see him before she died, she would give him one thousand pounds.
He proposed, therefore, that if they would let him out, and accompany
him to the place, he would give tliem fifty guineas each for their trouble :
and suggested that the matter might be effected without the knowledge of
the keeper of the prison, or any other person, they having the keys of it at
night, and the time required being very short. To this proposal the turn -
keys agreed ; and accordingly, about one o'clock in the morning, the gates
were opened, and Isdwell, with his irons on, was conducted in a hackney-
coach by one of them, armed with a blunderbuss, to the house in Artillerj'-
lane, Bishopsgate-street, where, inquiring for the sick lady, they were
ushered up stairs.
350 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
Isdwcll entered the room first, on which several fellows rushed forth,
and attempted to keep tlie turnkey out ; but, not succeeding, they put
the candles out, wrested the blunderbuss out of his hand, and discharged
it at liim. At this instant Isdwell was endeavouring to make his escape
out of the window, but he received the whole charge in his body, and fell
dead on the spot. A desperate conflict then took place, in the course of
which the jailor was very severely beaten, but some persons being attracted
to the spot by the uproar, the officer was rescued, and the prisoners were
apprehended, and lodged in safe custody.
The prisoners were tried for the murder of their companion, to which
their oU'ence in reality amounted, his death having been caused by them in
executing an unlawful deed, on the lilst April; but the prosecution failed
in consequence of the absence of any proof to establish the fact distinctly,
the occurrence having happened in the dark ; but, being detained to be
tried for the conspiracy to procure the liberation of the deceased Isdwell,
they were convicted, and received sentence of transportation.
CHARLES SCOLDWELL.
CONVICTED OF STEALING.
The case of this fellow may prove a wholesome lesson to some of the
constables and bailiffs of the present day.
The very remarkable transaction, upon which the indictment against
the prisoner arose, took place at Bedfont ; and the trial came on at the
Old Bailey, on the 23rd July 1796^ The indictment charged the pri-
soner with feloniously stealing, taking, and carrying away two live tame
ducks, the property of John Spurling, on the 22nd of the previous month
of June.
From the evidence which was adduced, it appeared that Mr. Spurling
was a baker at Bedfont, and that the prisoner was a bailiff. On the 22nd
June, the latter was entrusted with a writ of execution against Mr. Spur-
ling ; and accompanied by his follower, a man named Taylor, he pro-
ceeded to Bedfont, to secure his person. The debt amounted to 161. 7s. ;
and at two o'clock at niglit the prisoner made his appearance at the pro-
secutor's house. Upon his being required to explain his business, he said
that he had a writ, and that Mr. Spurling must accompany him to New-
gate. Mr. Spurling demurred at proceeding to prison at so late an hour
at night, and suggested that he might settle the demand ; but the prisoner,
with all the insolence usually assumed by persons holding similar situa-
tions, declared that there was no use in talking, and that the prosecutor
must hire a post-chaise, and go off with him at once. This new demand
of a post-chaise was looked upon as a hardship, almost equal to that of
going to prison, by Mr. Spurling, and he offered his own one-horse chaise
for the purpose of his transportation to town, but all was of no avail ; the
baihff and the bully were imited in the person of Mr. Sculdwell, and
nothing but a post-chaise and an immediate visit to Newgate would suit
his pleasure. At length, however, Mr. Taylor, his follower, whose caution
was rather greater than that of his master, ventured to inquire what sort
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 51
of a settlement could be tendered by Mr. Spurling, and the latter imme-
diately offered to pay 15^., which he had in tlie house, and to give security
for the remainder of the debt. " Have you a watch ?" peremptorily de-
manded Mr. Scoldwell, " if so, I must have it ;" and the poor baker was
cjompelled to give up his watch, worth four times the amount of the
balance of the demand. The officer, however, was not yet satisfied.
" Such, gentlemen as we," said he, " cannot come into the country without
sometliing to cover our expenses. You must pay us for our trouble and
time;" and ten shillings in halfpence, the amount of the day's earnings
in the shop, were handed over to him. His wife was as much an object
of consideration as himself, he next suggested. She had been deprived of
his company, and he must cany something to her by way of a recompense-
Were there no fowls in the house ? Mr. Spurling had none. A goose
would do ; — Mrs. Scoldwell was very fond of goose, and Mr. Spurling
being entitled to a goose which was feeding on the common, Taylor was
despatched to take possession of it on behalf of his master. Still, however,
the bailiff was dissatisfied ; and he demanded that some additional security
should be given for the debt; and having discovered that the baker had a
lease of his house, he procured that also to be delivered to him, together
with a note for forty pounds, with a condition, that unless the debt and
costs were paid witliin twenty-one days all should be his. Thus pretty
well secured, the prisoner, between four and five o'clock in the morning,
proposed to depart, and the baker proceeded to his oven. While there,
however, he saw the prisoner go to his stable where his ducks were con-
fined, and in the morning the two ducks, mentioned in the indictment,
were found to have been carried off. On his way to London, tlie prisoner
joked with the stage-coachman about his having done the baker out of his
watch, and having carried off his ducks without his knowledge ; and Mr.
Spurling having subsequently redeemed his wiitch, lease, and tlie note of
hand for 40^., by paying the balance of the debt and the costs, he immedi-
ately gave the prisoner into custody.
These facts being clearly proved in evidence, the Recorder summed up
the case to the jury, and a verdict of guilty was returned.
The prisoner was afterwards sentenced to seven years' transportation a
punishment which he richly deserved.
•JOSEPH HODGES AND RICHARD PROBIN.
CONVICTED OF CROSS DROPPIXG.
The trick of cross-dropping has become so notorious of late years, that
any description of the mode in which it was practised is almost unneces-
sary. As, however, tliis is the first case of the kind with which we have
met in the course of our search in the records of crime, we shall give it a
piitte in our calendar.
The dupe, in this instance, was William Headley, an ironmonger at
Cambridge, who, on the trial of these robbers, deposed that on the 7th of
July 1796, he was in town, goUig from Shoe-lane to the Angel Inn, St.
Clement's, to take a place on the outside of the coach to go into Wiltsliire :
352 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
sv^hen he met Hodges who was a stranger in Butcher-row, and left him to
take his place. He went on to Clare Market, where Hodges overtook him,
and they walked together through Portugal- street. While in that street
Hodcres suddenly stopped, and clapping his cane on a parcel which was lying
on the ground, said that he had a " finding." He picked up the parcel,
and opened the outer covering, and the witness saw in it something like a
red pocket-book. He inquired what it was ? but the prisoner refused to
show him in the street, and they, in consequence, went into a public-house
in order to open it. Having called for some liquor, the prisoner opened tne
parcel, and produced from it what looked like a diamond cross, and a
receipt in the following terms : —
" London. 20th June, 1796. Received of John King, Esq. the sum of
three hundred and twenty pounds, for one brilliant diamond cross, by me,
William Smith."
The prisoner seemed much alarmed and confused on seeing this, but the
witness havincr read the receipt, suggested that the parcel should be taken
to Mr. Smith. This, however, was opposed by Hodges, who asked whe-
ther they had not better inquire of the gentleman sitting by (the prisoner
Probin) what his opinion was? This was assented to, and upon his being
addressed, he suggested that Hodges ought to give the witness a present,
as havincr been by when the cross was found, and that he should keep it.
The cross was then taken out and examined, and Hodges said that he did
not mind orivincr the witness something, but he must go to his banker's
first, and get some drafts changed. He then went out, leaving the cross
with the witness and Probin, but returned, saying that ^ his bauKer was
out, and could not be seen until four o'clock, and a meeting at that hour
was eventually appointed to take place at the Angel Inn, St. Clerosnt's.
Each party then gave his name. Hodges said that he came from Worces-
ter, and was a hop-merchant ; and Probin said that his name was William
Jones, and that he lived at No. 7, Charing-cross. A discussion now took
place, to whom the care of the cross should be entrusted; and Probin sug-
gested, that the witness perhaps would be better satisfied if it were left in
his hands, and that if he deposited something he might carry it away until
four o'clock. He asked what would be required, and they said that he
ought to leave one hundred pounds at least. He then produced a Bank
bill, pavable on demand, for that amount from his stocking, where he had
concealed it, and handing it to Hodges, he said that that would do. The
witness then went away, but subsequently showing the cross to a friend,
he found that it was quite valueless. Information was, in consequence,
given at Bow-street of the robbery, and both prisoners were apprehended
in the course of the ensuing day, money to the amount of nearly fifty
pounds being found on each. It afterwards turned out, that the pri-
soner Hodc^es changed Mr. Headley's Bank bill almost immediately
after he had received it. In his possession was found a second cros«.
precisely similar to that palmed off upon the prosecutor.
The prisoners being found guilty, were sentenced to be transported
for seven years.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 853
THE MUTINY AT THE NORE.
RICHARD PARKER.
EXECUTED FOR MUTINY.
In the year 1797, when the threatening aspect of affairs abroad made
the condition of her naval force a matter of vital consequence to Britain,
several most alarming mutinies broke out among the various fleets stationed
around the sliores of the country. In April of the year mentioned, the
seamen of the grand fleet lying at Portsmouth disowned the authority of
their officers, seized upon the ships, and declared their determination not
to lift an anchor, or obey any orders whatsoever, until certain grievances of
which they complained were redressed. After some delay, satisfactory
concessions were made to them by the government, and the men returned
to their duty. But the spirit of insubordination had spread amonof other
squadrons in the service, and about the middle of May, immediately after
the Portsmouth fleet had sailed peacefully for the Bay of Biscay, the sea-
men of the large fleet lying at the Nore broke out also into open mutiny.
The most prominent personage in this insurrection was an individual named
Richard Parker, whose history it is our object in this paper to lay before
the reader.
Richard Parker was a native of Exeter, where he was born about the
year 1765 or 1766. His father was a reputable tradesman, and kept a
baker's shop at St. Sidwell's, in the bounds of the city mentioned. Young
Parker received an excellent education, and in the course of time went to
sea, which he had chosen as the scene of his future career. He served for
a considerable period in the royal navy as midshipman and master's mate,
and at one period also, it is said, lield the post of lieutenant. He appears
to have given up the naval profession on his marriage with Wiss Ann
Slachardy, a young lady resident in Exeter, but of Scottish origin, being a
member of a respectable family in the county of Aberdeen. This connexion
led Parker to remove to Scotland, where he embarked in some mercantile
speculations that proved unsuccessful. The issue was, that he ere long
found himself involved in difliculties, and without the means to maintain
his wife and two cliildren. In Edinburgh, where these embarrassments
fell \ipon him, he had no friends to apply to, and, in a moment of despe-
ration, he took the king's bounty, and became a common sailor on board a
tender at Leith. When he communicated to his wife the step ho had
taken, she was in the greatest distress, and resolved to set off instantly for
Aberdeen, in order to procure from her brother there the means of hiring
two seamen as substitutes for her husband. Though successful in raising
the necessary funds, no time was allowed her to complete her project. On
her return from Aberdeen, she was only in time to see the tender sail for
the Nore, with her husband on board. Her grief on this occasion was bit-
terly aggravated by the death of one of her children. Parker's sufferings
were shown to be equally acute by his conduct when the vessel sailed.
Exclaiming that he saw the body of his child floating on the waves, he
leaped overboard, and was with difficulty rescued and restored to life.
It was in the beginning of May 1797 that Parker reached the Nore, or
point of land dividing the mouths of tlie Thames and the Medway- TSto-
VOL. I. z z
354 THE NEW NRWGATl CALENDAR.
bably on account of his former experience and station as a seaman, he wag
drafted on board the Sandwich, which was the guard-ship, and bore the
flag of Admiral Buckner, the port-admiral. The mutinous spirit which
afterwards broke out, certainly existed on board of the Nore squadron be-
fore Parkei''s arrival. Communications were kept up in secret between the
various crews, and the mischief was gradually drawing to a head. But
though he did not originate the feeling of insul)Oidination, the ardent tem-
per, boldness, and superior intelligence of Parker, soon became known to
his comrades, and he became a prominent man among them. Their plans
being at length matured, the seamen rose simultaneously against their
officers, and deprived them of their arms, as well as of all command in the
ships, though behaving respectfully to them in all other respects. Each
vessel was put under the government of a committee of twelve men, and,
to represent the whole body of seamen, every man-of-war appointed two
delegates, and each gun-boat one, to act for the common good. Of these
delegates Richard Parker was chosen president, and, in an unhappy hour
for himself, he accepted the office. This representative body drew up a
list of grievances, of which they demanded the removal, offering to return
immediately afterwards to their duty. It is unnecessary to specify these
demands further, than that they related to increase of pay and provisions,
a Jiore equal division of prize-money, liberty to go on shore, proper pay-
ment of arrears, and other points of naval discipline. A committee of
naval inquiry subsequently grrtH^ecZ almost all that was demanded, thereby
acknowledging the general justice of the complaints made. Parker signed
these documents, and they were published over the whole kingdom with
his name, as well as presented to Port-admiral Buckner, through whom
they were sent to government.
When these proceedings commenced, the mutineers were suffered to go
on shore, and they paraded about Sheerness, where a part of the fleet lay,
with music, flags (red in colour — the customary hue of insubordination),
and other appendages of a triumphal procession. But, on the 22d of May,
troops were sent to Sheerness to put a stop to this indulgence. Being thus
confined to their ships, the mutineers, having come to no agreement with
Admiral Buckner, began to take more decisive measures for extorting com-
pliance with their demands, as well as for insuring their own safety. The
vessels at Sheerness moved down to the Nore, and the combined force of
the insurgents, which at its greatest height consisted of twenty-four sail,
proceeded to block up the Thames, by refusing a free passage, up or down,
to the London trade. Foreign vessels, and a few small craft, were suffered
to go by, first receiving a passport, signed by Richard Parker as president
of the delegates. In a day or two the mutineers had an immense number
of vessels under detention. The mode in which they kept these was as
follows : — The ships of war were ranged in a line, at considerable distances
from each other, and in the interspaces were placed the merchant-vessels,
having the broadsides of the men-of-war pointed to them. The appear-
ance of the whole assemblage is described as having been at once grand
and appalling. The red flag floated from the mast-head of every one of
the mutineer ships, It may be well imagined that the alarm of the citi-
zens of London was extreme. The government, however, though unable
at the period to quell the insurgents by force, remained firm in their de-
mand of " unconditional submission as a necessary preliminary to any in-
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 355
tercourse." This, perhaps, was the very best line of conduct tliat could
have been adopted. The seamen, to their great honour, never seemed to
think of assuming an offensive attitude, and were thereby left in quiet to
meditate on the dangerous position in which they stood in hostility to a
whole country. They grew timorous ; the more so, as the government had
caused all the buoys to be removed from the mouth of the Thames and tlie
adjacent coasts, so that no vessel durst attempt to move away for fear of
running aground. The mutineering vessels held together, nevertheless, till
the 30th of ]\Iay, when the Clyde frigate was carried off through a combi-
nation of its ofi&cers with some of the seamen, and was followed by the St.
Fiorenzo. These vessels were fired upon, but escaped up the river.
On the 4th of June, the king's birth-day, the Nore fleet showed that
their loyalty to their sovereign was undiminished, by firing a general sa-
lute. On the 5th, another frigate left the fleet, but its place was supplied
by a sloop and four men-of-war, which had left Admiral Duncan's fleet at
the Texel to join the mutiny. On the 6th, Lord Northesk met the dele-
gates by desire on board the Sandwich, and received from them proposals
for an accommodation, to which the unfortunate Parker still put his name
as president. The answer was a direct refusal, and this firmness seems to
have fairly humbled the remaining spirit of the mutineers. From that
time one vessel after another deserted the band, and put themselves under
the protection of the fort at Sheemess. On the 10th, the merchantmen
were allowed by common consent to pass up the river, and such a multitude
of ships certainly never entered a port by one tide. By the 12th, only
seven ships had the red flag flying, and on the 16th the mutiny had ter-
minated, every ship having been restored to the command of its officers. A
party of soldiers went on board the Sandwich, and to them the officers sur-
rendered the delegates of the ship, namely, a man named Davies, and
Richard Parker.
Richard Parker, to whom the title of Admiral Parker had been given
by the fleet and by the public during the whole of this affair, was the indi-
vidual on whom all eyes were turned as the ringleader of the mutineers
He was brought singly to trial on the 22d of June, after being confined
during the interval in the black-hole of Sheerness garrison. Ten officers,
under the presidency of Vice- Admiral Sir Thomas Paisley, composed the
court-martial, which sat on board the Neptune, off Greenhithe. The pri-
soner conducted his own defence, exhibiting great presence of mind, and
preserving a respectful and manly deference throughout for his judges.
The prosecution on the part of the Crown lasted two days, and on the 26th,
Parker called witnesses in his favour, and read a long and able defence
which he had previously prepared. The line of argument adp])ted by him
was — that the situation he had held had been in a measure forced upon
him; that he had consented to assume it chiefly from the hope of restrain-
ing the men from excesses; that he had restrained t.iem in various in-
stances; that he might have taken all the ships to sea, or to an enemy's
ports, had his motives been disloyal, &c. &c. Parker unquestionably
spoke the truth on many of these points. Throughout the whole affair,
the injury done to property was trifling, the taking of some flour from a
vessel being the chief act of the kind. Tliis was mainly owing to him.
But he had indubitably been the head of the mutineers. lie was proved
to iiave gone from ship to ship giving orders, and haranguing the uien — te
356 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
have been cheered as he passed along, and treated with the honours cf a
chief. Nothing could save him. He was sentenced to death. When hia
doom was pronounced, he stood up, and uttered these words in a firm voice:
" I shall submit to your sentence with all due respect, being confident of
the innocence of my intentions, and that God will receive me into favour;
and I smcerely hope that my death will be the means of restoring tran-
quillity to the navy, and that those men who have been implicated in the
business may be reinstated in their former situations, and again be ser-
viceable to their country."
On the morning of the 30th of June, the yellow flag, the signal of death,
was hoisted on b ard of the Sandwich, where Richard Parker lay, and
where he was to meet his fate. The whole fleet was ranged a little below
Sheerness, in sight of the Sandwich, and the crew of every ship was piped
to the forecastle. Parker was awaked from a sound sleep on that mom-
ino-, and after being shaved, he dressed himself in a suit of deep mourning.
He mentioned to his attendants that he had made a will, leaving his wife
heir to some property belonging to him. On coming to the deck, he was
pale, but perfectly composed, and drank a glass of wine " to the salvation
of his soul, and forgiveness of all his enemies 1" He said nothing to his
mates on the forecastle but " Good bye to you," and expressed a hope
that " his death would be deemed a sufficient atonement, and save the
lives of others i '' He was strung up to the yard-arm at half-past nine
o'clock. A dead silence reigned among the crews around during the cere-
mony. In closing their account of this aftair, the journals of the day state
that the body of Parker was put into a shell, and interred, within an hour
or two after the execution, in the New Naval Burying Ground at Sheer-
ness. A curious sequel to this account, however, it is now in our power
to present to the reader.
Richard Parker's unfortunate wife had not left Scotland, when the
rumour came to her ears that the Nore fleet had mutinied, and that the
ringleader was one Richard Parker. She could not doubt that this was
her husband, and immediately took a place in the mail for London, to save
him if possible. On her arrival, she heard that Parker had been tried,
but the result was unknown. Being able to think of no way but petition-
ing the king, she gave a person a guinea to draw up a paper, praying
that her husband's life might be spared. She attempted to make her
way with this to his majesty's presence, but w'as obliged finally to hand it
to a lord-in- waiting, who gave her the cruel intelligence that all applica-
tions for mercy would be attended to, except for Parker. The distracted
woman then took coach for Rochester, where she got on board a king's
ship, and learnt that Parker was to be executed next day : she sat up, in
a state of unspeakable wretchedness, the whole of that night, and at four
o'clock in the morning went to the river-side, to hire a boat to take her to
the Sandwich, that she might at least bid her poor husband farewell. Her
feelings had been deeply agonised by hearing every person she met talking
on the subject of her distress, and now, the first waterman to whom she
spoke exclaimed, " No ! I cannot take one passenger. The brave Admiral
Parker is to die to-day, and I will get any sum I choose to ask for a
party.' Finally, the wretched wife was glad to go on board a Sheemess
market-boat, but no boat was allowed to come alongside the Sandwich.
In her desperation she called on Parker by name, and prevailed on the
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 357
boat-people, by the mere spectacle of her suffering, to attempt to go nearer,
when they were stopped by a sentinel threatening to fire at them. As the
hour drew nigh, she saw her husband appear on deck between two clergy-
men. She called on him, and lie heard her voice, for he exclaimed,
" There is my dear wife from Scotland." Immediately afterwards, she fell
back in a state of insensibility, and did not recover till some time after she
was taken ashore. By this time all was over, but the poor woman could
not believe it so. She hired another boat, and again reached the Sandwich.
Her exclamation from the boat must have startled all who heard it.
" Pass the word," she cried, in her delusion, " for Richard Parker !"
The truth was now told to her, and she was further informed that his body
had just been taken ashore for burial. She immediately caused herself to
be rowed ashore again, and proceeded to the churchyard, but found the
ceremony over, and the gate locked. She then went to tlie admiral and
sought the key, which was refused to her. Excited almost to madness by
the information that the surgeons would probably disinter the body that
night, she waited around the churchyard till dusk, and then, clambering
over the wall, readily found her husband's grave. The shell was not buried
deep, and she was not long in scraping away the loose earth that inter-
vened between her and the object, of her search. She got the lid removed,
and then she clasped the cold hand of her husband in her own !
Her determination to possess the body aroused the widow from the
enjoyment of this melancholy pleasure. She left the churchyard, and com-
municated her situation to two women, who, in their turn, got several men
to undertake the task of lifting the body. This was accomplished success-
fully, and at three o'clock in the morning, the shell containing the corpse
was placed in a van, and conveyed to Rochester, where, for the sum of six
guineas, Mrs. Parker procured anotlier waggon to carry it to London.
On the road they met hundreds of persons all inquiring about and talking
of the fate of " Admiral Parker." At eleven p.m. the van reached Lon-
don ; but here the poor widow had no private house or friends to go to,
and was obliged to stop at the Hoop and Ilorse-Shoe on Tower-Hill, which
was full of people. Mrs. Parker got the body into her room, and sat down
beside it ; but the secret could not long be kept in such a place, more par-
ticularly as the news of the exhumation had been brought by express that
day to London. A great crowd, by and bye, assembled about the house,
anxious to see the body of Parker, which, however, the widow would not
permit. The Lord Mayor heard of the aftair, and came to ask the widow
what she intended to do with her husband's remains. She replied, " To inter
them decently at Exeter or in Scotland." The Lord Mayor said that the
body would not be taken from her, but prevailed on her to have it decently
buried in London. Arrangements were made with this view, and finally
the corpse of the unfortunate Parker was inhumed in Whitechapel church-
yard ; although not until it had to be removed to Aldgate workhouse, on
account of the crowds attracted by it, and whic'li caused some fears lest
" Admiral Parker's remains should create a civil war." After the closing
ceremony was over, ]\Irs. Parker, who had in person seen her husband con-
signed to the grave, gave a certificate that all had been done to her satis-
faction. But, though strictly questioned as to the parties who had aided
her in the disinterment, she firmly refused to disclose tlieir names.
Parker, as has been said, made a will, leaving to his wife a small pro-
S58 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
perty on whicli he had claims near Exeter. This she enjoyed for a number
of years, but ultimately her rights, whether erroneously or not, were decided
to be invalid, and she was deprived of the pittance which had formed her
maintenance. She was thrown into great distress, and was compelled to
solicit assistance from the charitable, having become nearly if not entirely
blind. The late King William gave her at one time 10^., and at another 20/.
In 1836, the forlorn and miserable condition of poor Parker's widow was
made known to tlie London magistrates, and a temporary refuge was pro-
vided for her. But temporary assistance was of little avail to one whose
physical infirmities rendered her incapable any longer of helping herself,
and again her miseriible condition came under the cognizance of the public
authorities. An appeal to the charitable has recently been made, by a
portion of the daily press, in her favour, but with what success we are
unable to say. She is now seventy years of age, blind, and friendless.
Time and misfortune have not quenched her affection for the partner of
her early days. Of him she yet speaks with all the enthusiasm of youth-
ful affection, and still mourns his fate.
MARIA THERESA PHIPOE, alias MARY BENSON
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
We do not recollect ever to have seen the case of any woman who has
exhibited so much masculine determination as Mrs. Phipoe. She was twice
tried at the Old Bailey upon charges equally atrocious, and each equally
exhibiting the ferocity of her disposition.
In the first case, the indictment charged that she had feloniously assaulted
]\Ir. John Cortois, with intent to kill and murder him. Her trial came on
at the Old Bailey in the month of January 1795, when it was proved in
evidence that the prisoner was a person of abandoned character, and that
she kept a house, where she was in the habit of receiving visits of a certain
character from gentlemen. Among her other patrons was Mr. John
Cortois, a gentleman of considerable property ; and it appears that Mr.
Cortois having called upon her one evening, he was alarmed at finding
himself suddenly seized from behind by his paramour, and her servant,
a woman almost as powerful as herself, by whom he was speedily over-
powered, and bound to his chair with strong cords. His person being thus
secured, Mrs. Phipoe immediately, with horrid imprecations, demanded
that he should sign a note or bill in her favour for 2000/., threatening that,
in the event of his refusal, she would instantly cut his throat ; and even
enforcing her demands by holding a knife at his throat in such a position
as that on tlie smallest movement on his part would have procured the
infliction of a wound. In a state of the utmost terror and alarm, he
consented to attach his name to the instrument which was produced, ready
drawn by Mrs. Phipoe, and then he imagined, as a matter of course, that
he should be at liberty. But Mrs. Phipoe by this time had begun to
consider the possibility of his preventing the negotiation of the note, and
determining that " Dead men tell no tales," she had made up her mind that
he should have no opportunity of disclosing the means by which it had
been obtained. For this diabolical purpose, she now made a violent attack
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 359
upon him with a knife, and wounded him in many places ; but Mr.
Cortois, becoming desperate in his turn, burst the bonds by whicli he was
confined with a violent effort, and attacked his assailant. A struggle took
place, in which Mr. Cortois was again mastered by the united efforts of Mrs.
Phipoe and her servant ; and then a choice was tendered to him whether he
would die by poison, by being shot, or by the knife which ]\Irs. Phipoe bran-
dished in a threatening manner over his head. The unfortunate gentleman
was now much weakened by loss of blood, and was almost prevented from
opposing the further violence of his demoniac assailants, when, luckily, the
cries which he had raised brought him assistance in the shape of a watch-
man, through whose instrumentality Mrs. Phipoe was secured.
Upon this testimony a verdict of guilty was returned ; but a point of
law being subsequently raised in favour of the prisoner, it was declared that
the judgment must be arrested.
Mrs. Phipoe was, however, subsequently, on the 23rd of May, indicted
for the common assault upon Mr. Cortois, and a verdict of guilty having
been a second time returned, she was subjected to twelve months' imprison-
ment in Newgate.
A year had scarcely elapsed after the termination of the period of her
incarceration, before Mrs. Phipoe, or Mrs. Benson, as she was now called,
was again in custody on a charge of murder.
She was indicted on the 8th of December 1797, for the wilful murder of
Mary Cox ; and it appeared that at the time of the commission of this
offence, the prisoner lived in lodgings in Garden-street, St. George's in the
East. On the night of the murder, Mrs. Cox called upon her ; but within
a short time after she had entered her room, a scuffle was heard, followed
by loud groans. The mistress of the house demanded to know the cause of
the disturbance, but the prisoner declared that it was only Mrs. Cox in a
fit. The door being opened, however, Mrs. Benson was observed to be
covered with blood, and Mrs. Cox was found lying on the ground despe-
rately wounded. Two persons immediately went for a doctor, while a
constable was also sent for, by whom the prisoner was taken into custody.
Mrs. Cox, on being examined, was found to have sustained some severe
wounds, from which there was no prospect of her recovering ; and she
pointed out Mrs. Benson as the person by whom they had been inflicted.
A lai'ge clasp-knife, covered with blood, was found on the table in the
room ; and by its side lay a part of a finger ; and on Mrs. Benson being
questioned, she admitted that that was the knife with which " she had done
the woman's business ;" and said that her own finger had been cut off" in the
scuffle. Mrs. Cox subsequently died in the hospital, from the effects of the
stabs she had received, having previously made a declaration before a
magistrate as to the circumstances attending her murder. She said that
having purchased a gold watch of the prisoner for lU., she asked that a
coffee-cup, which she pointed out, might be given to her into the bargain.
The prisoner bade her take it ; but on her raising her hand to remove it
from the shelf, she received a stab in the neck, which was followed by
many others in the same place and on different parts of her body. The
prisoner subsequently got her on the bed, and swore that she would murder
her outright, that she should not tell her own tale ; but she was interrupted
by the entrance of the landlady.
The prisoner in her defence declared that Mrs. Cox had abused her, and
360 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
had violently wounded her, so as to cut off part of her finger before she
oflFered any violence to her ; but that then, being maddened with pain and
rage, she admitted she had attacked her. She knew nothing of wiiat sub-
sequently occurred, until she was found by her landlady in her own room
covered with blood.
The jury having returned a verdict that the prisoner was guilty, she
behaved with great hardihood, frequently interrupting the learned judge
(Jlr. Baron PerrjTi) in his observations, while condemning her to death.
Sentence having been passed, however, that she should be hanged and
subsequently dissected, she was removed from the bar, and then she appeared
to be fully sensible of her guilt, and of the nature of her present position.
She was executed before Newgate, December the 11th, 1797 ; and after
hanging an hour in the view of a great number of spectators, one-third of
whom were females, the body was cut down, and delivered to the surgeons
for dissection.
In her last moments she confessed the justice of her sentence, but denied
having cut off her own finger, saying it was done in the scuflle with the
Avoman she murdered. She owned to have been guilty of many enormities,
and attributed her frequent gusts of passion to the use of laudanum.
Her body was publicly exhibited in a place built for the purpose in the
Old BaUey.
JAMES O'COIGLEY, alias FAYEY.
EXECUTED FOR HIGH TREASON.
James O'Coigley was indicted at ^Maidstone, on the 21st of May 1798,
for high treason. The indictment was read by Mr. Knapp, who after-
wards stated the charges it contained in a summary manner. He said there
were three distinct species of treason charged in the indictment and seven
overt acts. The first treason was compassing and imagining the death of
the king ; the second, adhering to his enemies ; the third, compassing and
imaorinincr, inventino^, devising and intending, to move and stir certain
foreigners and strangers, that is to say, the persons exercismg the powers
of government in France, to invade this kingdom. The first overt act was
sending intelligence to the enemy ; the other overt acts were attempts to
hire vessels, and to leave the kingdom.
At the trial, which lasted during the whole of two days, an immense
body of evidence was produced in support of the charges preferred against
the prisoner. A pocket-book, however, which had been found in his great-
coat, and in which was a letter addressed to the Executive Directory of
France, afforded conclusive evidence of his guilt.
Upon his being called upon for his defence, he addressed the jury in the
following terms : —
" It is impossible for me to prove a negative ; but it is a duty I owe to
you, and to myself, solemnly to declare that I never was the bearer of any
messao-e or paper of this kind to France in the course of my life. That
paper is not mine : it never belonged to me. It states that it was to be
carried by the bearer of the last : this is something which might have been
proved, but it is impossible for me to prove a negative. There is also in
tnia paper an allusion to secret committees and political societies. I declare
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 361
that 1 never atteuJed any political society whatever. With these consi-
derations I consign my life to your justice ; not doubting but that you will
conduct yourselves as English jurymen ever do, and tliat your verdict will
be such as shall receive the approbation of your own conscience, your
country, and your God."
The jury, after about half-an-hour's consideration, found O'Coigley Guilty.
Mr. Justice Duller, in an address to the prisoner, which he read from a
written paper previously to his passing the sentence, observed that he had
been clearly convicted of the most atrocious crime which could be committed
in any country — that of meditating the destruction of a sovereign, who was
one of the best, the most just, upright, and amiable of princes that ever
graced a throne ; and he could not conceive what were the motives which
could actuate any man even to wish for the death of one who had ever
been the father of his people.
The prisoner was also found guilty of conspiring to overturn the consti-
tution of these kingdoms — a constitution which, from the experiment of
years, had been found to be the best calculated of any that ever existed in
the world to ensure the liberty, security, and happiness of the people who
lived under it.
These atrocious crimes became still greater from the manner in which
they were intended to be perpetrated — that of inviting a foreign enemy to
come and invade and conquer these countries.
Those people who had fancied such an event to be a desirable one ought
to think seriously what the consequences of it would be, provided it was
possible to be accomplished. Did they suppose that (desperate as their
present situation might be) their condition would be bettered by having
their country put into the possession of people who were holding out the
delusive hopes of what they call liberty to other nations ? Could such
persons hope that they themselves should enjoy liberty, even supposing the
conquerors to have enjoyed as free a constitution as any in the world ?
No ; they would become suspected, be despised, and destroyed by them.
A celebrated writer (IMontesquieu) very justly observed upon this sub-
ject, that a country conquered by a democratic nation always enjoyed less
liberty, was more miserable, and more enslaved, than if that country
happened to have been conquered by a nation whose government was
monarchical. But if there was any illustration of this observation wanting,
one had only to look to the conduct of the French at this moment towards
Holland, Italy, Switzerland, and every other country they had conquered.
His lordship believed that the prisoner might have been actuated by motives
similar to those which used formerly to induce many people to think that
the killing of men of a diiFerent religion would give them a claim to canon-
ization. But, though the motives miglit be similar, the subjects connected
with them were very diflferent. In the present times he did not believe
that any person entertained such sentiments about religion. On the con-
trary, he was sorry to find that religion was too much neglected, and that
the peace and tranquillity of numbers of people were destroyed in conse-
quence of their having lost all belief of the existence of a Divine Providence,
and totally abandoned all hopes of a future state. He was afraid that the
prisoner had been infected with tliis infidelity ; and if he was, he (the
judge) prayed that the Almighty God, in his infinite mercy and goodness,
would change his heart, and cause him to repent of his sins.
VOL. I. 3 a
3fi2 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
His lordship then, in a solemn and awful manner, passed the following
sentence : —
" That tlie prisoner he taken from the har to prison, and from thence to
the place of execution ; there to he hanged, but not until he he dead, to be
cut down while yet alive, and then to have his heart and bowels taken out
and burnt before his face ; his head to be severed from his body, and his
body to be divided into four quarters."
j\Ir. O'Coigley listened to this address and sentence w'ith attention, but
at the same time with the gi'eatest coolness. He bowed his head when the
judge concluded, his countenance expressing at once resignation and firm-
ness.
Thursday, 7th June, being fixed upon for the execution, on the previous
day, the unhappy prisoner received an intimation to that effect without
emotion. He spent the evening very calmly. He had but one thing, he said,
on his mind which created any anxiety ; that was, an apprehension that
he might be misrepresented after his death. He was anxious to be faith-
fully reported, and that was all he wanted. On Thursday, at a quarter
past eleven o'clock, O'Coigley left the jail. He was dressed in black ; his
hair was cropped and powdered, his shirt -collar open, and he wore no
neckcloth. His elbows w-ere tied behind with ropes, and over his shoul-
ders was the rope witli which he was to be executed. He stepped into the
hurdle; and on his sitting down, a chain was put round his waist to fasten
him. The executioner sat opposite to him. The cavalcade was well
guarded by a large body of the Kent Volunteers ; and throughout the
journey to Pennenden Heath, the prisoner was engaged in reading from a
book of devotions.
Upon their arrival at the place of execution, the military formed a square.
The prisoner being unchained, he rose up and stood in the hurdle, and read
two pi'ayers, one of them aloud in Latin. He then took out of his pocket
an orange, and also a penknife ; but being imable to cut the orange, from
his hands being bound, he gave it to a friend, whom he beckoned to come
near him, saying, " Open this orange with my penknife ; it has been said
they would not trust me with a penknife, lest I should cut my throat ; but
they little knew that I would not deprive myself of the glory of dying in
tliis way." He desired his friend to keep the penknife for his sake, and to
hold the orange, several pieces of Avhich he ate.
After finishing his devotions, the clergyman gave him absolution ; and
having ascended the platform, he bid farewell to the jailor, thanking liim
for the many civilities he had shown him. On his being tied up to the
gallows, he made the following speech : —
" I shall only here solemnly declare, that I am innocent of the charge for
which I suffer. I never was in my life the bearer of any letter, or other
paper or message, printed, written, or verbal, to the Directory of France,
nor to any person on their behalf ; neither was I ever a member of the
London Corresponding Society, or of any other political society in Great
Britain ; nor did I attend any of their meetings, public or private, so help
me God ! I know not whether I sliall be believed liere in what I say, but
I am sure I shall be believed in the world to come. It can scarcely be sup-
posed that one like me, in this situation, going to eternity, before the most
awful tribunal, would die with a falsehood in his mouth ; and I do declare,
by the hopes I confidently feel of salvation and happiiaess in a futui-e 8tat«,
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 36.1
tbat my life is falsely and maliciously taken away by corrupt and base
perjury, in some cases proceeding from mistake, no doubt, but in others
from design. Almighty God, forgive all my enemies. I beg of you to
pray that God will grant me grace — for I have many sins to answer for ;
but they are the sins of my private life, and not the charge for which I now
die. (Raising his voice.) Lord have mercy on me, and x'eceive my soul."
A white nightcap was then drawn over his face, and he made a signal
by dropping a handkerchief. The board was then let down, and he
remained suspended for twelve or thirteen minutes. Upon his being taken
down, his head was taken off" by a surgeon, and the executioner held it up to
the populace, saying " This is the head of a traitor." Both head and body
■were then put into a shell, and buried at the foot of the gallows.
GEORGE WALDRON, alias BARRINGTON.
TRANSPORTED FOR PICKIXG POCKETS.
This notorious offender was born of decent parents in the year 1755, in
the town of Maynooth, county Kildare, Ireland. His father, whose name
was Waldron, was a working silversmith ; and his mother followed the
occupation of mantua-maker, and occasionally joined with it the profession
of a midwife. Owing to a law-suit in which they were engaged with a
relative, for the recovery of a legacy to which they conceived themselves
entitled, their circumstances were by no means affluent. But although
they were unable to procure for their son the advantages of a superior
education, they had him instructed at an early age in reading and writing ;
and afterwards, through the bounty of a medical gentleman in the neigh-
bourhood, he was tauglit the principles of arithmetic, and the elements of
geography and English grammar.
When he had entered his sixteenth year, he had the good fortune to
attract the notice of a dignitary of the Church of Ireland, through whose
interest he was placed at a free grammar-school in the Irish capital, where
his patron proposed he should fit himself for the University ; and in order
that he might be able to make an appearance equal to that of the youths
with whom he was to associate, his generous protector supplied him witl.
money and every other necessary that could render his situation at school
not only comfortable, but respectable.
These advantages he enjoyed but a short time, for the impetuosity of his
passions hurried him into an action by which he lost his patron's favour
for ever. When he had been about half a year at the grammar-school, he
was involved in a quarrel with a lad mucli older and stronger than himself.
Some blows passed, in which George suff'ered considerably ; but in order
to be revenged, he stabbed his antagonist with a penknife ; and had he not
been prevented, would probably have murdered him. For this atrocious
offence the discipline of the house was inflicted with proper severity, which
irritated the youth to such a degree, that he formed the resolution of aban-
doning not only the school, but also his family and friends. Plis plan of
escape was no sooner formed than it was carried into execution ; but before
his departure he found means to steal ten or twelve guineas from the
master, and a gold repeating-watch from his sister. With this booty he
364 THE KEW XEAVGATE CALENDAR.
safely effected his escape from the school-house in the middle of a still night
in the month of May 1771 ; and pursuing the great north road froin
Dublin all that night and the next day, he arrived late in the evening at
Drogheda witliout interruption.
Having reached this town, where he thought that he should be safe
from the chances of pursuit and discovery, by a species of forced march,
without rest or refreshment, he entered a small public-house in order to
procure the one and the other ; but the following morning introduced to
his notice a band of strolling players, whose acquaintance he immediately
made. A friendship commenced under such unfavourable circumstances, it
might be thouo-ht W'ould scarcely last many days, but it was nevertheless
maintained through choice and aftection for several years ; and it appears
that whilst engaged as a member of the company, he picked up much in
formation which was exceedingly useful to him in his subsequent career.
Price, the manager of the company, having lived some time in London,
in the capacity of clerk to a pettifogging attorney, was intimately acquainted
with the town, and all the arts of fraud, deception, or violence, which are
practised in it by the most imprincipled classes to procure money. For
indulfinor these vicious propensities, he subjected himself to the lash of the
law, and was at this time an involuntary exile in Ireland till the expira-
tion of the term for which he was to be transported ; and this man soon
became the confidant and counsellor of the young fugitive. By his advice
he renounced his paternal name, assumed that of Barrington, and entered
into the company ; and in the course of four days he became so well
initiated in the mysteries of his profession as to be able to perform the part of
Jaffier m " Yeuice Preserved," without the aid of a prompter, in a crowded
barn in the neighbourhood of Drogheda with the most flattering demon-
strations of applause
His success, however, was by far too great to render it at all desirable
that he should continue his performances so near the scene of his late
depredations ; and in obedience to the dictates of prudence, lest our hero
might be called upon to make his last appearance on a " stage" fitted up
■with a drop, before his character as a player was fully established, it was
resolved that the whole company should, without delay, move northwards
with all speed, so as to get out of the way, with the anticipation of their
being able to reach sixty or eighty miles from Dublin without any long
halt. In order to carry this resolution into effect, however, it was recol-
lected that some means must be found to feed the strollers, as the produce
of their late performances was not so weighty as to require any great
exertion on the part of the treasurer to squeeze it into his waistcoat pocket;
and the gold repeater being remembered, it was immediately given up by
oar hero, 2)ro bono publico, with a degree of liberality which procured for
him a burst of applause from his companions in the search of histrionic fame
The watch being disposed off, its proceeds were equally divided, and the
party set out on its march ; but when they arrived at Londonderry, it was
found that the Belvidera of the company had sun-endered her heart to the
new Jafl&er. A reciprocal attachment was found to exist, and the connexion
was only dissolved by the death of the lady. It appears that she was the
daughter of a respectable tradesman at Coventry ; and having eloped from
her "father's house, at the age of sixteen years, with a lieutenant of marines,
was conducted by him to Dublin, and there, in less than three months.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 365
was infamously abandoned to all the horrors of penury and want. Reduced
to this extremity, she readily embraced a proposal made to her by Price, to
join his company, as her only resource ; and being young and beautiful, it
is not extraordinary that she should have excited a flame in tlie bosom of
her new admirer. She was unfortunately drowned, in her eighteenth year,
in crossing the Boyne, through the negligence of the ferryman.
To return, however, to the Company. The money wliich had been
raised was foimd to be quite expended on their arrival at Londonderry, and
some means, it was determined, must be foimd to recruit their bank. In
this dilemma, Price insinuated to our adventurer that a young man of his
address and appearance might easily introduce himself into the public
places, to which the merchants and dealers of the town resorted, and that
he might, without difficulty, find opportunities of picking their pockets,
and escaping unseen and undiscovered. The idea pleased Harrington, and
the fair coming on, oflFered a favourable juncture at which to commence
his new profession. The design was carried into execution in the course of
the ensuing day with very great success, their acquisitions amounting to
about forty guineas in cash, and one hundred and fifty pounds in Bank
notes. The circumstance, it may readily be supposed, excited no small
alarm among the honest traders, on its becoming generally known that
robberies to so large an amount had been effected; but the players remain-
ing in the town, suspicion did not rest upon them, and the depredation was
put down to the score of some of the ordinary scamps who then, as well as
now, followed the fairs, in Ireland and England. It was resolved, how-
ever, that the company should quit Derry, and after having played a few
nights with more applause than profit, they removed to Ballyshannon,
where our hero may be said to have commenced the business of a professed
pickpocket in the summer of the year 1771, in the 16th year of his age.
At Ballyshannon he passed the autumn and winter of 1771 with the
company to which he belonged, playing two days in the week, and pick-
ing pockets whenever opportunity offered ; and this business, though at-
tended with some danger and certain infamy, he found so much more
lucrative than that of the theatre, where his fame and his proficiency by
no means kept pace with the expectations raised by his first appearance,
that he determined to quit the stage.
He now commenced what is called a " gentleman pickpocket," by af-
fecting the airs and importance of a man of fashion; but he was so much
alarmed at the detection and conviction of his preceptor. Price (who was
sentenced to transportation for seven years), that he hastened to Dublin,
where he practised his pilfering art during dark evenings only. He soon
made his own country too hot to hold him, for at one of the races in the
county of Carlow he was detected picking the pocket of a nobleman ; but,
upon restoring the property, his lordship declined any prosecution, and he
therefore left Ireland, and for the first time appeared in England in 1773.
On his first visit to Ranelagh with a party, he quitted his friends, and
picked the pockets of the Duke of Leinster and Sir William Draper of a
considerable sum ; and he also took from a lady a watch, with all which
he got off undiscovered, and rejoined his friends.
In 1775 he visited the most celebrated watering-places, particularly
Bath; and, being supposed to be a gentleman of fortune and family,
366 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR
lie wa3 noticed by persons of the first distinction. On liis return to Lon-
ion he formed a connexion with one Lowe, and became a most daring pick-
pocket. He went to court on the queen's birthday, as a clergyman, and
not only picked several pockets, but found means to deprive a nobleman
of his diamond order, and retired from the palace without suspicion.
In the course of the winter of 1775 the celebrated Russian Prince Orloff
visited England. The various circumstances of his history, the high fa-
vour he enjoyed at the court of his sovereign, and the valuable presents he
had received from her, were frequently mentioned in the public prints.
Among the rest, a gold snuff-box, set with brilliants, and valued at the
enormous sura of thirty thousand pounds, particularly attracted the atten-
tion of Barrington. It was not long before he formed a plan for obtaining
possession of it. A favourable opportunity one night presenting itself at
Covent-garden Theatre, he contrived to get near the prince, and found
means to convey the precious trinket out of his excellency's waistcoat
pocket into his own. This operation, however, was not performed with
such dexterity as to escape detection. The prince felt the attack so impu-
dently made upon him, and immediately seized the depredator by the col-
lar. During the confusion that ensued, Barrington slipped the box into
the hand of the owner, who was doul)tless well pleased at having recovered
it so easily ; but the delinquent was, nevertheless, secured, and committed
to Tothill-fields Bridewell, previous to his examination at Bow-street for
the offence. On this occasion he represented himself as belonging to an
affluent and respectable family in Ireland, adding that he had been edu-
cated for the medical profession, and had come to London to improve him-
self in it ; and having accompanied this plausible representation with many
tears, and seeming to rest so much on his being an unfortunate gentleman
rather than a gnilty culprit. Prince Orloff declined to prosecute, and he
was dismissed by the magistrate, with some wliolesome admonition.
This adventure, however, had no effect with our hero. He had gone too
far to recede, and he was compelled to continue his depredations upon the
public, in order to obtain a living.
In pursuit of his business, it was his custom to attend the sittings of the
two Houses of Parliament ; but being one day in the House of Peers, he
was recognised by a stranger who was present, and turned out by one of
the ushers, who was made acquainted with his character. A threat of
vengeance was heard to slip from the lips of the thief, and he was taken
into custody, and being unable to give security for his future good beha-
viour, he was committed to Tothill-fields Bridewell, and remained there
during a considerable period of time. On his discharge, his only refuge
was his old profession : but he had not pursued it long before he was de-
tected in picking the pocket of a woman in Drury-lane Theatre, for which
he was indicted and convicted at the Old Bailey in the year 1777, and wag
sentenced to three years' hard labour on board the hulks at Woolwich.
The excellence of his deportment there, however, procured for him a miti-
gation of his punishment, and at the termination of a year he was set at
liberty, in obedience to the recommendation of the superint^ndants of nis
g^°^-. . . . . . . ,
Within six months after his release, he was detected in picking tiie
pocket of a lady during divine service in St. Sepulchre's church, and being
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 867
convicted of this offence, he was again sentenced to hard labour on the
river ; but for a period of five years, and in pursuance of his sentence, he
was removed to the hulks a second time, in tlie year 1778.
During this second confinement, he either found that his sufferings were
more severe or his situation more desperate than in his former imprison-
ment, and, wearied out with labour and disgusted with life, he determined
to commit suicide. With this view he stabbed himself in the breast with
a penknife ; but the wound, though deep and dangerous, did not prove
mortal, and it healed slov/ly, although it left the unfortunate prisoner in a
state of the greatest weakness. While he was in this state, he had the
good fortune to attract the attention of a gentleman of rank, who happened
to visit the hulks for the purpose of inquiring into the state of the con-
victs, and who, commiserating his wretched plight, exerted his influence
and procured for him a pardon, on condition of his quitting the kingdom.
The condition was eagerly accepted, and having been provided with
money by his benefactor, he proceeded at once to Dublin.
He had scarcely arrived in this city, however, before he was appre-
hended on a charge of picking the pocket of a nobleman of his gold watch
and money at a theatre; but the evidence being defective, he was acquitted
and discharged. Upon his defence to this charge he displayed considerable
powers of oratory, and having been addressed by the Judge in terms of
suitable admonition, he spoke with great animation, and enlarged upon
what he termed the force of prejudice, insinuating that the calumnies
which, he contended, had been uttered against him in England, had fol-
lowed him to his native country.
He tlicn quitted the bar, and as soon as he had obtained his liberty, he
deemed it prudent to retire from Dublin, and he proceeded to Edinburgh.
Suspicions were, however, soon entertained of his character there, and,
braving all danger, he returned to London, and there frequented the the-
atres, the Opera House, Pantheon, and other places of public resort,
but was at length taken into custody. Having been acquitted for want
of evidence of the charge brought against him, he was unexpectedly de-
tained for having returned to England in violation of the condition on
which his majesty was pleased to grant him a remission of his punish-
ment, and was accordingly confined in Newgate during the remainder of
the time that he was originally to have served on the river Thames.
On the expiration of his captivity he returned to his former practices,
but with greater caution: but in spite of all his cares, he was at length ap-
prehended for picking the pocket of Mr. Le Mesurier, at Drury-lane play-
house, but effected his escape from the constable; and while the lawyers
were outlawing him, and the constables endeavouring to take him, he
evaded detection by travelling in various disguises and characters through
the northern counties of the kingdom.
The appearances of a clergyman, a quack doctor, and a rider or travel •
ler, wei'e in turn assumed; but going to Newcastle-upon-Tyne, he was
secured and removed to London by a writ of habeas corpus. He now
employed counsel, and had the outlawry against him reversed; and being
then tried for stealing Mr. Le Mesurier's purse, was acquitted in conse-
quence of the absence of a material witness.
Being once more enlarged, he had the presumption to visit Dublin again,
where liaving been soon suspected, he with difficulty escaped to England;
368 TTIE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
but, soon after his arrival, he was taken into custody for picking the pocket
of Henry Hare Townsend, Esq. at Epsom Races. For this he was tried at
the Old Bailey, September 1, 1798, and found guilty, notwithstanding he
made an ingenious defence. On September 22d the Recorder pronounced
the sentence of transportation on him for seven years, when Barrington
addressed the Court to the following effect: —
" My Lord, — I have a great deal to say in extenuation of the cause for
v hich I now stand convicted at this bar ; but, upon consideration, I will
not arrest the attention of the honourable Court too long. Among the
extraordinary vicissitudes incident to human nature, it is the peculiar and
unfortunate lot of some devoted persons to have their best wishes, and
their most earnest endeavours to deserve the good opinion of the most re-
spectable part of society, entirely frustrated. Whatever they can say or
whatever they can do, every word and its meaning, every action and its
motive, is represented in an unfavourable light, and is distorted from the
real intention of the speaker or the actor. That this has been my unhappy
fate, does not seem to stand in need of any confirmation. Every eftbrt to
deserve well of mankind, and my heart bore witness to its rectitude, has
been thwarted by such measures as those, and consequently has been ren-
dered abortive. Many of the circumstances of my life I can, without any
Tiolation of truth, declare to have, therefore, happened absolutely in spite
of myself. The world, my lord, has given me credit for abilities, indeed,
much greater than I possess, and therefore much more than I deserved;
but I have never found any kind hand to foster these abilities. I might
ask, where was the generous and powerful hand that was ever stretched
forth to rescue George Barrington from infamy? In an age like this,
which, in several respects, is so justly famed for liberal sentiments, it was
my severe lot that no noble-minded gentleman stepped forward, and said
to me, ' Barrington, you are possessed of talents which may be useful to
society. I feel for your situation; and as long as you act the part of a
good citizen, I will be your protector: you will then have time and op-
portunity to rescue yourself from the obloquy of your former conduct.'
Alas, my Lord, George Barrington never had the supreme felicity of hav-
ing such comfort administered to his wounded spirit. As matters have
unfortunately turned out, the die is cast, — and as it is, I bend resigned to
my fate, without one murmur or complaint."
Having concluded this address, rendered more forcible by his pathetic
manner, he left the bar with a respectful bow, and thus retired from public
life in Europe, to act his part in a new hemisphere.
From the period of his conviction Barrington's conduct was such as to
retrieve his character from the disgrace with which he had loaded it
during the former portion of his life. Soon after the ship in which he,
with many other culprits, embarked for Botany Bay, had left England,
a circumstance occurred which may justly be asserted to have laid the
foundation of his subsequent good fortune.
The humanity of the captain had induced him to release many of the
convicts who were in a weakly state from their irons, and to permit them
alternately, ten at a time, to walk upon deck. Two of them, who were
Americans, formed the design of seizing the ship, and prevailed on the
majority of their comrades to enter into the plot. It was agreed, that on
the first favourable opportunity, pait of those who were on deck should
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 369
force the arm-chest, overpower the sentinels, and then give a signal for
those below to join them. This design was planned with great secrecy,
and executed with equal spirit and audacity. One day, the captain and
most of the officers being below, Barrington, who was the only man on
deck except the man at the helm, heard a noise on the main-deck, and
going forward to ascertain its cause, was met by one of the Americans
and another convict, who presented a sabre at his breast, which they had
just wrenched from one of the sentinels, and commanded him instantly to
stop, and to make no noise. The sentinel at the moment came up, and
with a pistol which he had just snapped at the villain's head, knocked up
the weapon ; and Barrington, seizing the opportunity, snatched up a hand-
spike, and felled his assailant to the ground. The man at the helm was
a witness to this scene of violence, and gave the alarm, while Barrington
meanwhile kept his situation, guarding the passage of the quarter-deck.
His antagonists now retreated a few paces, but, being joined by many
others, were rushing upon him, when the discharge of a blunderbuss from
behind our hero wounded several, and they retreated ; and Barrington
being by this time aided by the captain and the rest of the officers, the
mutineers were in a few minutes driven below. An attempt of this kind
required the most exemplary punishment ; and, accordingly, two of the
ringleaders were immediately hanged at the yard-arm, and several others
severely flogged.
Order being restored, the captain paid Barrington many handsome com-
pliments for his conduct, to which he attributed the salvation of the ship,
promised him a recompense for his services, and directed his steward to
supply him with everything he wanted during the voyage. Accordingly,
on the arrival of the ship at the Cape of Good Hope, he gave Barrington
a draft on a merchant there for one hundred dollars, with permission to
go on shore as often as he pleased. Nor was this all ; for, when they
reached the place of their final destination, the captain made such a favour-
able report of Barrington's character and merits to the governor of Port
Jackson, that he immediately appointed him superintendant of convicts at
a kind of colony from the parent settlement, called Paramatta, where a
convenient habitation was assigned him.
Barrington's conduct in this situation was marked by such undeviating
rectitude as not oidy to obtain him the esteem of the governor and other
officers, but also to procure him the appointment of high constable of
Paramatta, with a salary of fifty pounds a-year ; on which occasion the
governor complimented him on the faithful discharge of his duty, which
he considered as effiicing his former misconduct.
In this situation he continued some time, but in 1801 he was a mere
living skeleton ; and, having lost the use of his intellectual faculties, had
retired on a small pension. He died in 1804, a melancholy instance of
perverted talents ; and it is supposed that his mental imbecility wa,s
brought on by remorse and conscious sensibility, operating on a mind
capable of better things.
VOL. I.
3 B
•370 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
JAMES HADFIELD.
TRIED FOR HIGH TREASON, IN SHOOTING AT THE KING.
The case of this unfortunate man has attracted universal attention, but
its circumstances exliibit only that the most lamentable insanity existed in
the mind of the prisoner.
The trial of the wretched man came on in the Court of King's Bench,
on the 26th June, 1800, whc-n the prisoner was arraigned upon an indict-
ment, which charged him with shooting at the King in Drury-Lane
Theatre on the loth May preceding.
The indictment having been read, the prisoner pleaded Xot Guilty, and
the Attorney-general then opened the case against him.
Mr. Joseph Craig was the first witness examined. He deposed, that
he was a musician at Drury-Lane Theatre, and was there on the night of
his Majesty honouring the performance with his presence. His attention
was suddenly drawn to the prisoner, whose figure he saw elevated above
tlie rest ; his right hand being extended ^vith a pistol pointed towards his
3Iajesty. The pistol was immediately discharged, and then it fell down
instantly. Several persons seized the prisoner at once, and he assisted in
pullincT him over the rails, and in taking him into the music room. Mr.
Sheridan and the Duke of York afterwards entered the room, when the
prisoner said, " God bless your Royal Highness ! I like you very well,
you are a good fellow.''
Other witnesses deposed to the same efi"ect ; and stated, in addition, that
tiiey had remarked that the prisoner was a pitiful object before the dread-
ful attempt which he made. The situation which the prisoner selected
was the best which he could have chosen for the object wb.ich he had in
view ; he was observed to be agitated on the entrance of his ^lajesty ; and
on his bowing a second time to the audience, the prisoner raised his arm
and fired. The pistol was picked up from the ground in front of him,
after he was taken into the music room.
Mr. Law, one of the counsel for the prosecution, here desired that the
Duke of York might be called ; upon which the prisoner, in a paroxysm
of enthusiasm, cried out, "• God l)less the duke ! I love him." The Court,
seeing his agitation, immediately gave directions that he should be per-
mitted to sit down ; and Mr. Kirby, the keeper of Newgate, (who all the
time sat next to him,) told him he had permission of the Court to sit
down, which he did, and remained composed during tlie I'emainder of the
trial.
The Duke of York then stated, that he was present at the examination;
he remarked at the time that he knew the prisoner, and that he had been
one of his orderly men. The prisoner said, ■•' He knew his ov.n life was
forfeited ; he regretted the fate of his wife only ; he would be only two
days lonorer from his wife;" and he added, "The worst is not come yet."
His royal highness said the prisoner appeared to be perfectly collected.
After his majesty had retired, his royal highness directed a search to be
made in the king's box, when a hole was discovered, evidently made by
the impression of a shot, fourteen inches from his majesty's head. It had
perforated the pillar. In searchuig below, some slugs were found; and by
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 371
the smell, it appeared that they had been recently fired ofi: Mr, Erskine
asked his royal highness if the most loyal and brave men were not usually
selected to be the orderly men. His royal highness answered, that the
most tried and trusty men were appointed orderly men. When the pri-
soner was asked what could induce him to commit so atrocious an act, he
said he was tired of life, and thought he should have been killed.
The evidence for the prosecution being closed, Mr. Erskine addressed
the jury at considerable length.
]\lajor Ryan, of the 15th light dragoons, in which the prisoner was
a private, Hercules M'Gill, private in the same regiment, and John Lane,
of the Guards, all knew the prisoner, and deposed to his havino- been
guilty of different acts of insanity.
Mr. Cline, surgeon ; Dr. Crichton, physician ; and Dr. Letherne, sur-
geon to the 15th regiment, as professional gentlemen, gave testimony to
their belief of the prisoner's insanity.
Captain Wilson and Christopher Lawton, of the 15th light drao^oons ;
David Hadfield, brother to the prisoner ; jMary Gore, sister-in-law to the
prisoner ; Catharine Harrison, and Elizabeth Roberts, detailed diffi^rent
acts of insanity, particularly on the day previous to and on which he
committed the crime for which he stood indicted : and the prisoner was
found by the jury to be insane, and was remanded to be dealt with accord-
ing to his Majesty's pleasure.
He was subsequently removed to Bedlam, where he remains.
Ravillac, who stabbed King Henry IV. of France, while in his coach,
and suiTounded by his guards, was tortured to death in the following
inhuman manner : —
At the place of execution, his right hand, with which he gave the fatal
blow, was put into a furnace flaming with fire and brimstone, and there
consumed. His flesh was pulled from his bones with red-hot pincers ;
boiling oil, resin, and brimstone, were poured upon the wounds, and
melted lead upon his navel. To close the scene of horror, four horses were
fastened to the foui* quarters of his body, which were torn asunder.
He declared to the last moment that he had no accomplices, and that
the only motive which impelled him to act the regicide was, because the
king tolerated two religions in Frauce.
His parents were banished their country, never more to return, on pain
of immediate death ; and his whole kindred, nay, every individual bearing
the name, were ordered to renounce it ; so that the name of Ravillas
should never more be heard of in Frauce.
RICHARD FERGUSON, alias GALLOPING DICK.
HANGED FOR HIGHWAY ilOBBERY.
TnE adventures of Galloping Dick are scarcely less notorious than those
of the celebi'ated Turpin, or the unfortunate Dijk King, the " Gentleman
Higliwayman."
Richard Ferguson was the son of a gentleman's valet, and was a native
of Hertfordshire. Having received some little educat'on, he was at an
early age taken into employment in the establishment of his father's
372 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
master as a stable-boy. Being an active lad, and withal well versed in
the management of horses, he was temporarily employed as postilion
during the illness of the regular servant ; but, being at length compelled
to return to his more humble duties of stable-boy, his pride could ill brook
the degradation ; and he determined to look for higher employment. A
friend of his master was in want of a postilion, and young Dick applied for
the place. His qualifications were at once admitted, and he was engaged,
and immediately accompanied his new employer to London. His nabits
were, at this time, of such a nature as to render him a favourite with his
master, and, by means of steadiness and perseverance, he remained during
a considerable period in the same service ; but, being at length discovered
in a situation with one of the female servants which left no doubt of his
claims to a character for gallantry, he was dismissed.
He remained out of place during a considerable period, and, resorting to
public-houses, he became acquainted with a number of persons of his own
condition, from whom he speedily acquired a knowledge of all the vices
fashionable among the party-coloured gentry. He, at length, was com-
pelled to accept employment in the service of a livery-stable keeper in
Piccadilly ; but his master dying, he was again thrown upon the town,
though not altogether without provision, for he had so far gained his
master's good opinion, that he had left him a legacy of oOl.
Dick was now the owner of a sura far greater than he had ever yet
had the good fortime to possess ; and he determined to commence business
in a new line — that of gentleman. Purchasing mourning out of respect
to his last employer, he frequented the theatres, and while at Drury-lane
he became acquainted with a woman, his admiration of whose charms
eventually, though by indirect means, proved his ruin. At first, he was
disposed to imagine that she was a person of respectability, but, meeting
with a ready acquiescence in his request to be permitted to accompany
her home, he soon discovered the mistake into which he had fallen. Day
after day he visited his dulcinea, until he had disposed of all the cash
he possessed, and then he began to find, that there were others, whose
visits were more welcome than his. He, cot unfrequeutly, met persons
in their way in or out of the house, with whose figures he became speedily
familiar, and an accident subsequently made him acquainted with the
nature of their avocations.
Findinor that he was no longer welcome to the house of his lady, he
resolved now to endeavour to procure the means by which he hoped again
to secure her favour ; and he accepted a situation as postilion at an inn in
Piccadilly.
In his drives round the metropolis, he not unfrequently saw his rivals
ofaily dressed and mounted, but he was rather surprised one day, while on
the North Road, at receiving a sudden summons to stop from a man,
whose figure he fancied he recognised as that of one of them, but whose
face was covered with crape. He speedily obeyed the order which he
had so peremptorily received ; and while the man who had called to him
stood by his side with a pistol at his head, another, similarly disguised.
•Tfalloped from a by-road to the chaise and demanded the money of its
occupant. A sudden gust of wind now enabled our hero to satisfy himself
of the trutli of his surmises as to the higliwaynian near him, for the crape
beiuT momentarLv blown from his face, he at once recognised in him one
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 373
of the admirers of the lady of his affections, whom he subsequently found
to be Jerry Avershaw. He stared at tlie man, but some persons at this
moment appearing in view, the highwayman precipitately rode off.
Avershaw, it appears, was no less uneasy at the discovery, which he
knew had been made, than Ferguson was astonished ; and, pulling up
with his companion at a roadside inn, they gave directions, that Dick
should be introduced to them on his stopping there to water his horses, on
his way home with the return chaise. Upon his entry, an offer was
immediately made to him of a bribe, to prevent his discovering the haunts
of the thieves, and his acquiescence procured for him an invitation to sup
with the highwaymen on the same evening at their rendezvous in the
Borough. With the money our hero flew to his doxy, but the lady
having now discovered his situation declined to have anything more to
say to him.
The chance, which had operated to deprive him of the society of the
lady, however, gained for him the companionship of her visitors ; and,
meeting Avershaw at the house which he had appointed, he was received
with every mark of attention. A sumptuous supper was served, and
a large party having assembled, the night was spent in boisterous hilarity.
Ferguson was delighted with the society to which he was introduced, and
at once assented to a proposition, that he should become one of their
number — a sharer in their dangers and profits. In obedience to a sug-
gestion which was offered, it was determined, however, that he should not
yet be called upon to enter into active service, but that he should furnish
his associates with information as to the routes of the various chaises which
went from the inn where he was employed, so that they might intercept
them, and rob them. He pursued this diabolical plan with so much
success as frequently to obtain some share of very large booties ; but, at
length, his connexion with the highwaymen being suspected, he lost his
place, and was compelled to take the road himself. In this new employ-
ment, he was long remarked for the most extraordinary success. Of a
bold and daring disposition, he defied danger. His skill in horses was
found to be of the greatest importance to him ; and the headlong pace at
which he would travel, when in pursuit of an object, or when chased, pro-
cured for him the name of '* Galloping Dick." Numerous were the
escapes which he succeeded in making from his pursuers, after he had
committed robberies ; and, in one instance, having been concerned with
two others in stopping two gentlemen in the Edgeware Road, he succeeded
in galloping off, while his companions were secured, and upon being tried
were convicted and executed.
Nor were his successes confined to the road. In his amours he was
equally bold and enterprising, and equally happy. He persuaded two
married women, the wives of publicans in the Borough, to elope with him,
and his intrigues were almost innumerable.
To follow him through the whole of his exploits would be to occupy a
very considerable portion of our limits with the recital of his case alone.
He was concerned in almost every robbery which was committed in the
neighbourhood of the metropolis during the period at which he was cele-
brated., and his acquaintance and connexion with other thieves were almost
as extensive as his crimes. He was repeatedly in custody at Bow-street,
ami was several times tried at the Old Bailey, but acquitted: but at length
374 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
having been a party to a most daring robbery near Aylesbury, he was
taken into custody within a short time of the commission of his offence
and being fully identified, he was committed for trial.
He was indicted at the ensuing assizes, and a verdict of guilty having
been found, he was sentenced to death.
Upon his discovering that all hopes of mercy were vain, he sedulously
applied himself to a preparation for his approaching end, and upon the day
of execution conducted himself with decent resignation.
He was executed at Aylesbury in the month of April, 1800.
JOSEPH WALL, ESQ.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
Mr. Wall, or as he has been more commonly called. Governor Wall
was descended from a good family in Ireland, and entered into the army
at an early age. He was of a severe and rather unaccommodating tem-
per; nor was he much liked among the officers.
Mr. Wall was Lieutenant-governor of Senegambia, but acted as chief,
the first appointment being vacant. His emoluments were very consider-
able, as, besides his military appointments, he was superintendant of trade
to the colony. It was an office he held but a short time — not more than
two years; during which he committed the crime for which he suffered,
by ordering Benjamin Armstrong to receive eight hundred lashes, on the
10th of July, 1782, of which he died in five days afterwards.
As soon as the account of the murder reached the board of admiralty, a
reward was offered for his apprehension; but, having evaded justice in
1 784, he lived on the Continent, sometimes in France, and sometimes in
Italy, but mostly in France, under an assumed name, where he was ad-
mitted into good society.
It is most extraordinary that a species of fatality almost invariably
appears to attend persons who have been guilty of off"ences like that of
Mr. Wall. A gnawing desire to return to London constantly preyed on
the mind of that gentleman, and at length in the year 1797, having first
written to a confidential friend to procure him lodgings, he once more ap-
peared in the metropolis. His presence was quickly notified to his rela-
tions, who constantly urged the imprudence of this step, and the impor-
tance of his again retiring beyond the reach of tlie laws of England, but all
remonstrance proved vain, and he continued to reside in his lodgings in
Lambeth, scarcely exhibiting any desire to conceal his name, character, or
situation. He soon afterwards removed to new apartments in Upper
Thornhauoh-street, Bedford-square, and from this time he seems to have
contemplated surrendering himself to the Government, in order that he
might take his trial for the offence imputed to him. His mind appeared
ill at ease, but he was evidently incapable of coming to any firm determi-
nation upon a point of so much importance to his interests and those of his
family. It was not until the year 1801 that he at length summoned up
courage to do that which he now looked upon as his duty to his country,
and then he wrote to the Government in terms singularly indicative of !us
THE NEW XEWG 4."i;;p CALENDAR. 375
disposition, saying that " He was ready to give himself up," but not im-
mediately tendering his person to custody.
A communication of this character was not to be overlooked by a mini-
ster of state, and although it was extremely possible, that in case of his
continued silence, no steps would have been taken to procure t!ie apj.re-
hension of ]\Ir. Wall, orders were now given that he should be secured.
At this period he was still living in Upper Thornhaugh street, and there
he was apprehended by officers, who received instructions from the office
of the Secretary of State for the Home Department.
On the 20th of January, 1802, about twenty years after the commission
of the crime with which he stood charged, Mr. "Wall was indicted at the
Old Bailey, and his trial came on before the Chief Baron of the Exche-
quer, Mr. Justice Rook, and Mr. Justice Lawrence.
Upon the case being called on, the prisoner informed the Court that he
was deaf, and requested to be permitted to sit near his counsel, but the
Lord Chief Baron informed him, that such an application could not be ac-
ceded to, for that there was a situation pointed out for persons placed in
his condition, and that any distinction would be invidious. The case then
proceeded, and it was proved by the witnesses, that Armstrong was far
from being undutiful in his behaviour; that he was, however, tied to the
gun-carriage; black men, brought there for the purpose — not the drum-
mers, who in the ordinary course of things would have had to flog him,
supposing him to have deserved flogging; — but black men were ordered to
inflict the punishment ordered. Each man took his turn, and gave this
unhappy sufferer twenty-five lashes, until he had received the number of
eight hundred; and the instrument with which the punishment was in-
flicted was not a cat-o'-nine tails, which is usually employed, but a
piece of rope of a greater thickness, which was much more severe than the
cat. During the time at which this inhuman punishment was being in-
flicted, the prisoner stood by, and with a degree of cruelty almost unpa-
ralleled urged the executioners to " cut him to the heart and liver," and
in answer to the poor wretch's cries for mercy, he was proved to have de-
clared that " the sick season coming on, with the punishment, would do for
him." At the conclusion of the flogging, the miserable being was con-
ducted to the hospital, and there, at the expiration of five days, he died,
declaring that he had been punished without trial.
The defence set up was, that the deceased had been guilty of mutiny,
and that the punishment was not so severe as reported, but that the de-
ceased was suffered to drink strong spirits when in the hospital. Several
witnesses were called on the part of the prisoner, particularly Mrs. Lacv,
widow of the captain who succeeded Mr. Wall, and Mary Falkner, who
not only agreed with him in the outrageous conduct of the men, and the
violent language they used, but both positively swore that Lewis, the first
witness against the prisoner, was not the orderly serjeant on that day. —
John Falkner, Peter Williams, and some others who were present, were
also examined, and their testimony went in full corroboration of the ac-
count given by the prisoner, and so far went to his justification; but in
many material points it was in direct contradiction to the evidence which
had been given by the witnesses for the Crown.
The jury, after being out of court some time, pronounced a vf^rdict of
^ guilty." The Recorder then proceeded to pass sentence of death upon
376 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
the prisoner: that he be executed the following morning, and that his body
be afterwards delivered to be anatomized according to the statute. Mr.
"Wall seemed sensibly affected by the sentence, but said nothing more than
to request the court would allow him a little time to prepare himself for
death. On the :21st of January, a respite was sent from Lord Pelham's
office, def(.'rring his execution until the '2oi\\, and on the 24th, he was fur-
ther respited till the 28th. During the time of his confinement, previous
to trial, he occupied the apartment which was formerly the residence of Mr.
Rido-way, the bookseller. His wife lived with him for the last fortnight;
although he was allowed tvvo hours a-day, from twelve to two, to walk in
the yard, he did not once embrace tliis indulgence; and during his whole
confinement, he never went out of his room, except into the lobby to con-
sult his counsel. He lived well, and was at times very facetious, easy in
his manners, and pleasant in conversation: but during the night he fre-
quently sat up in his bed and sang psalms, overheard by his fellow-pri-
soner. He had not many visitors, and his only attendant was a prisoner,
who was appointed for that purpose by the turnkey.
After trial he did not return to his old apartment, but was conducted
to a cell; and he was so far favoured as not to have irons put on, but a
person was employed as a guard to watch him during the night to prevent
him doing violence to himself. On his return from court, on the day of
trial, his bed was brought to him in the cell, on which he threw himself
in an aoony of mind, saying it was his intention not to rise until they
called him on the fatal morning.
The sheriffs were particularly pointed and precise in their orders, with
respect to confining him to the usual diet of bread and water, preparatory
to the awful event, and this order was scrupulously fulfilled. The prisoner,
during a part of the night, slept, owing to fatigue and perturbation of
mind. The next morning his wife applied, but was refused admittance
without an order from one of the sheriffs. She applied to Mr. Sheriff Cox,
who attended her to the prison.
From the time of the first respite, until twelve o'clock on Wednesday
night, he did not cease to entertain hopes of his safety. The interest made
to^save him was very great. The whole of Wednesday occupied the great
law officers; the judges met at the chancellor's in the afternoon, and the
conference which then took place lasted upwards of three hours.
All hopes were, however, vain, and at a little after four o'clock, on
Thursday the i^Sth, the scaffold began to be erected by torch-light.
The prisoner had had an affecting interview with his wife, the night before,
from whom he was painfully separated about eleven o'clock. 3Irs. Wall
then reluctantly departed, overwhelmed with grief, and bathed with tears;
while the unfortunate husband declared that he could now, with Christian
fortitude, submit to his unhappy fate.
During the greater part of the night he slept but little; but at about
four o'clock in the morning his sleep was observed to become sound, and,
according to the best recollection of his attendant, he continued in this
sleep rather more than an hour; so that he could not have heard the fatal
machine in its passage to the Debtors'-door. His voice preserved its usual
strenffth and tone to the end; and, though very particular in his questions
respecting the machinery in every part, yet he spoke of his approaching
execution and death with perfect calmness. At half after six in the morn-
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 877
incr, his prison attendant, going to his cell, was asked by him " whether
tiie noise he heard was not that of erecting his scaffold ?" but he was
liumanely answered in the negative.
The Ordinary, Dr. Ford, soon after entered, when the pris^oner devoutly
Joined him for some time in prayer. They then passed on to an ante-
room, when the governor asked " whether it was a fine mornino- ?" On
beincr answered in the affirmative, he said, " The time hangs heavily : I am
anxious for the close of this scene." One of the officers then proceeded to
bind his arms Avith a cord, for which he extended them out firmly ; but
recolJocting himself, he said, " I beg your pardon a moment ;" and putting
his hand in his pocket, he drew out two white handkerchiefs, one of which
be bound over his temples so as nearly to conceal his eyes, over wlucli he
placed a white cap, and then put on a round hat ; tlie other handkerchief
he kept between his hands. He then observed, " the cord cuts me ; but
it's no matter :" on which Dr. Ford desired it to be loosened, for whicli
the prisoner bowed, and thanked him.
As the clock struck eight, the door was thrown open, and Sheriff Cox
and his officers appeared. The governor approaching him, said, " I
attend you, sir ;" and the procession to the scuffuld, over the Debtors'- door,
immediately succeeded. He had no sooner ascended it, accompanied by the
Ordinary, than three successive shouts from an innumerable populace, the
brutal effusion of one common sentiment, evidently deprived him of the
small portion of fortitude which he had summoned up. He bowed his
head under the extreme pressure of ignominy, when the hangman put the
halter over it. This done, Mr. Wall stooped forward and spoke to the
Ordinary, who, no doubt at his request, pulled the cap over the lower
part of the face, when in an instant, without waiting for any signal, the
platform dropped.
From the knot of the rope turning round to the back of the neck, and
his legs not being pulled, as at his particular request, he was suspended in
convulsive agony for more than a quarter of an hour. After hanging a
full hour, his body was cut down, put into a cart, and immediately con-
veyed to a building in Cow-cross-street to be dissected. He was dressed
in a mixed coloured loose coat, with a black collar, swan-down waistcoat,
blue pantaloons, and white silk stockings. He appeared a miserable and
emaciated object, never having quitted the bed of his cell from the day of
condemnation till the morning of his execution.
The body of the unfortunate gentleman was not exposed to public view,
as was usual in such cases. l\Ir. Belfour, secretary to the Surgeons'
Company, applied to Lord Kenyon to know whether such an exposure was
necessary ; and finding that the forms of dissection only were required, the
body, after those forms had been complied with, was consigned to the rela-
tions of the unhappy man, upon their paying fifty guineas to the Phiiau-
t'nropic Society,
VOL. I. 3 r
378 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
JOHN TERRY AND JOSEPH HEALD.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
These villains were executed for the wilful murder of a poor old woman,
named Elizabeth Smith, aged sixty-seven years ; their object being to
possess themselves of a small sum of money, known to have been recently
before transmitted to her by her son.
Their trial came on at York, on Friday the 18th of March 1803 ; and
the indictment alleged the murder to have been committed at Flaminshaw,
near "Wakefield, in the same county.
It appeared that the deceased was a respectable woman, who obtained
an humble living by disposing of the produce of two cows which she
possessed. JMisfortune, however, fell upon her, and her cows died ; but
through the instrumentality of her neighbours a subscription was raised for
her, by which one cow was purchased. Her son, who was engaged in a
decent way of life at Leeds, sent her eighteen guineas to buy another ; and
this was the bait by which the wretched men, whose crime we are about
to describe, were allured. On the morning of the I4th of January 1803,
the poor old woman was found to have been murdered in her own house,
under circumstances of very great barbarity ; and suspicion having fallen
upon the prisoners, they were taken into custody. Terry then, driven by
remorse, made a confession to Shaw and Linley, the constables by whom
he had been secured. He said that he and Heald, having determined upon
the perpetration of the murder, agreed to meet outside tlie house of the
deceased at about one o'clock on the morning of the 14th of January. They
met in accordance with their appointment ; and Heald having first entered
the house, by making his way through the first-floor window, with his
(Teriy's) assistance, he directly afterwards placed something against the
side of the house by means of Avhich he was enabled to follow him.
On their gaining the room of Mrs. Smith, they found that she had been
alarmed by the noise which they had made, and was getting up ; but they
directly attacked her, and knocked her down ; and when Heald liad struck
her several blows, he took out a razor. The deceased was now still on the
ground, and he (Terry) held her head, while Heald cut her tliroat ; but at
lenoth liis fingers being wounded, he called to his companion to desist, as they
had done enough, and proposed that they should go and see if all was safe.
He then ran down stairs, but returning in a few moments, he found that
Heald had got the old woman into another room, and was beating her over
the head with a pair of tongs. Upon seeing him, he struck her no more,
and then they directly secured the money and made off. From the evidence
of the constables it further appeared that Heald, on hearing the confession
of the other prisoner, upbraided him for deceiving him, and added, " Thou
knowest I was not with thee." Terry answered, " Thou knowest there is
a God above, who knows all ;" and upon Heald remarking, " Thou hadst
better lay it upon somebody else," he repHed, " I will not hang an innocent
man ; thou knowest there were but us two, and God for our witness."
This, together with some other circumstances of suspicion, proved
afi-ainst tlie two prisoners, constituted the evidence against tliem ; and the
jury returned a verdict of Guilty. 8«nteuce of death was then immediately
jo^/Tz^ C^oTt^My /Zo^^t/n^ a/ a^lamP?t€-^/ ^oizcn/>?ta/?z/
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 379
passed, and was ordered to be put into execution on the f(>llowin£^ Monday;
but in the mean time a most extraordinary change took place in the
demeanour of the prisoner Terry.
Upon his being attended by Mr. Brown, the Ordinary, he asserted that
Heald was not guilty, and that if he were hanged, he should be guilty of
two murders instead of only one. He entreated that the clergyman would
endeavour to procure the respite of his fellow-prisoner, and declared that ho
could not bear to be hanged with an innocent man. The whole of the
circumstances were in consequence submitted to the consideration of the
learned judge ; and every measure of precaution was instantly taken by
that learned individual to prevent the occurrence of an event which might
deprive an innocent person of -life; but as it was found that Heald made
no attempt to join in the protestations of his companion, and further that
the whole of Terry's conduct appeared to arise from a desire only that the
execution should be respited, and that his declarations were contradictory
and evidently devoid of trutli, the law was ordered to take its course.
On the way from his cell to the scaffold Terry appeared to be in the
highest state of excitement ; and upon his appearance on the platform, he
exhibited a most extraordinary degree of stubbornness. He shouted to the
mob assembled, that they were going to hang an innocent man, and even
made an effort to escape, by jumping from the ladder placed against the
gallows, and which he was only prevented from doing by the clergyman,
who seized him by the collar. He then renewed his protestations of his
own guilt, and the innocence of his companion ; and in spite of the
entreaties of the clergyman, and of Heald, that he would allow him the
benefit of the prayers, he continued to make the most clamorous resistance
to the execution of the sentence. By the united exertions of five men, he
was at length dragged to the drop, and the rope was forced over his head ;
but in his efforts he tore off the cap ; and at the moment at which the
platform sunk, he made a spring, and throwing himself towards the side of
the gallows, got his foot upon the beam, and caught the corner-post with his
arm. In this dreadful situation he supported himself for about a minute,
when he was forced off by the executioner, and then, with his face un-
covered, he was left suspended. In a few moments both he and his compa-
nion in crime were lifeless.
ROBERT SMITH.
EXECUTED FOR ROBBERY.
This singular robber was a Scotchman, and one of those adventurers who,
ingenious in wickedness, devise new plans of depredation, and make the
industrious, whose hard earnings they enjoy, the chief objects of their prey.
The mode of robbery which this man adopted, was that of employing a
hackney-coach to drive him to some outlet, and then robbing the coach-
man in the first lonesome place he came to ; in which for some time he was
very successful. This trade he commenced early in the month of March.
1803, when, being genteelly dressed, at night about ten o'clock, he hired a
hackney-coach at Charing-cross, and ordered the coachman to drive to St.
John's Farm, near the one mile-stone on the Edgeware-road. AYhen the
380 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR,
coach got to the top of the lane leading to St. John's Farm, Smith pulled
the string, and told the coachman to let him get out, for he had passed the
house he wanted to go to ; upon which the coachman got off his box, and
let him out of the coach. Smith then asking what his fare was, he told
him, five shillings and sixpence ; wlien he put his hand into a side-pocket,
pulled out a pistol, and swore that he would immediately shoot him if he
did not deliver his money. The coachman complied ; and upon his
demanding his watch, delivered that up also ; and the robber succeeded in
making his escape across the fields.
On jNIunday the 6th of March, at about eleven o'clock at night, Smith
hired another coach, and ordered the driver to proceed to St. George's -row,
on the Uxbridge-road. Upon his arrival at the place of his destination, he
demanded the coacliman's money and watch with the most horrid impre-
cations ; and on some hesitation being shown to comply with his request,
he produced a pistol and a tuck-stick, with the latter of which he wounded
the driver in the side. Two seven-shilling pieces, and eight and sixpence
in silver, were then handed over to him, and he decamped, threatening the
coachman with instant death in case of his attempting to pursue him.
His career of guilt, however, was destined soon to close; for being met in
King's-road, Chelsea, by a patrole named Jones, on Sunday night, the 20th
of March, under suspicious circumstances, he was taken into custody, and a
pistol and sword-stick were found in his possession. Information of his
capture being published, on the morning of liis examination at Bow-street,
he was instantly recognised by Jones and Treadwell, the two coachmen,
his robberies upon whom we have described; and further proof of his identity
in the former case was found in a duplicate which was taken from his
pocket, referring to the pawning of the watch of the prosecutor-
Three other charges of a similar character were subsequently preferred
against him by other coachmen, whom he had induced to convey him to
unfrequented places in the vicinity of London ; and a fourth case of robbery
on the highway was proved by John Chilton, a porter at Messrs. Spode's
Staffordshire warehouse, whom he had met at Bayswater, and wliom, after
having maltreated and wounded, he had robbed of three shillings and
sixpence.
On his trial the prisoner was recognised as a discharged artillery-man,
and was identified by Treadwell, one of his prosecutors, as having been his
fellow- prisoner in the King's Bench; and he was found guilty, and sentenced
to death.
He was hanged at the Old Bailey in the month of June 1803, apparently
fully sensible of the enormity of the crimes which he had conimitted.
GEORGE FOSTER.
EXECUTED FOR THE MURDER OF HIS WIFE AND CHILD.
The conviction of this wretched man was founded entirely upon circum-
stantial evidence.
He was indicted on the 14th January, 1803, at the Old Bailey, for the
wilful murder of his wife and child.
From the testimony of the witnesses called in support of the case for tht
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 381
prosecTition, it appeared, that the prisoner lived in a place called North-
row, Grosvenor- square, and that his wife and child lived witli the mother
of the former in Old Boswell-court, but were in the habit of going to the
prisoner's lodginps to sleep, every Saturday niglit. On tlie 4th December,
in compliance with this custom, his wife quitted her mother's house with
the child, and was never more seen by her until the Wednesday followin.fif,
when her body was picked up in the Paddington Canal, near the Miti-e
Tavern, at a distance of about two miles from Paddington. Inquiries
were subsequently made, the result of which proved, that the prisoner had
been seen with his wife at the Mitre, as late as half-past four o'clock on
the evening of the 5th December, and that then they went away together,
walking by the side of the canal towards London. The prisoner was met
in town, by an acquaintance, at about six o'clock ; but no suspicion was
entertained until the discovery of the body. The prisoner was then taken
into custody, when he declared that immediately on his leaving the Mitre,
he had quitted his wife, and had gone across the fields as far as Whet-
stone, on his way to Barnet to see two of his children, who were in the
workhouse there ; but that on his arrival there, it was so dark that he
returned to London at about eight o'clock, but that he never saw his
wife again.
The learned judge, in summing up the case to the jury, remarked to
them that the prisoner's story was utterly at variance and inconsistent
with the evidence adduced ; and a verdict of Guilty was returned, and
the prisoner was sentenced to deatb.
He subsequently confessed the justice of his conviction and punishment;
and admitted that he had conducted his wife twice to the same spot with
the same object, before he could summon up courage to destroy her. He
assigned no reason for the diabolical deed, except that. he had taken an
unaccountable dislike for her, and did not know how otherwise to rid
himself of her.
He was executed at the Old Bailey, on the 18th January, 1803.
After he had hung the usual time, his body was cut down and con-
veyed to a house not far distant, where it was subjected to the Galvanic
process, by Professor Aldini, under the inspection of Mr. Keate, Mr.
Carpue, and other medical gentlemen. M. Aldini, who was the nephew
of the discoverer of this most interesting science, showed the powers of
Galvanism to be far superior to those of any other stimulant. On the first
application of the process to the face, the jaw of the deceased criminal
began to quiver, and the adjoining muscles were horribly contorted, and
one eye actually opened. In the subsequent part of the process, the right
hand was raised and clenched, and the legs and thighs were set in motion.
Mr. Pass, the beadle of the Surgeons' Company, being officially present
during the time of these extraordinary experiments, was so alarmed, that
on his going home he died from fright.
An experiment of another description was made on a convict, named
Patrick Redmond, who was hanged for a street-robbery, on the 24th of
February, 1767, in order to bring him to life. It appears that the sufferer
bad hung twenty-eight minutes, when the mob rescued the body, and
carried it to an appointed place, where a surgeon was in attendance to try
the experiment of hronchotomy^ which is an incision in the windpipe, and
38- THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
which, in less than six hours, produced the desin.'d eflfect. A collection
was made for tlie poor fellow, and interest mado to obtain his pardon,
for it will be remembered that the law says the condemned shall hang
until he is dead; consequently, men who, like Redmond, recovered, are
liable to be again hanged up until they are dead.
ROBERT EMMET.
EXECUTED FOR HIGH TREASON.
This enthusiast was the son of Dr. Emmet, a man of good family, and
possessed of considerable wealth ; but who, having imbibed opinions
favourable to republicanism, took care to instil them into his children.
His eldest son was implicated in the Irish rebellion of 1798, and escaped
with his life upon the terms offered to Arthur O'Connor, Dr. M'Xevin, and
others, and accepted by them, and, like them, became an exile in a foreign
land.
The hero of the present sketch was intended for the Irish Bar, and
received a most liberal education. In Trinity College he became con-
spicuous, not only for his abilities, but for his display of eloauence in the
"■ Historical Debating Society," a school which matured the talents of
Bushe, Burrows, and several other members of the Irish Bar. Young
Emmet, however, wanted discretion ; and having too often avowed his
political principles, a prosecution was threatened, to avoid which he preci-
pitately fled to France, where his republican opinions were confirmed.
In 1803 he returned to Dublin, not being then more than twenty- four
years of age, and found himself in possession of three thousand five hun-
dred pounds, left him by his father, then recently deceased. With this
money, and the talents and connexions which he possessed, he might easily
have established his own independence ; but the sober business of life had
no attractions for him; he aspired to greater fame, and resolved to attempt
the separation of his country from England.
Wild and extravagant as the scheme was, he entered seriously upon it,
and easily found abettors among those who had escaped the angry ven-
geance of 1798. Having procured several associates, he took a house in
Patrick-street, and converted it into a rebel depot for powder, guns,
swords, pikes, &c. In the purchase and preparation of these he expended
upwards of one thousand pounds ; but before the plan of insurrection was
ripe, the powder in the magazine, through accident, ignited, and the whole
depot was blown into the air. Such, however, was the fidelity of
Emmet's partisans, that no discovery took place, further than that caused
by the explosion; and the Government, who ordered the guns to be brought
to the Castle, remained ignorant of the purpose for which those destructive
implements were provided.
A mind so sanguine as that of Emmet was not to be damped by an
accidental disappointment : he collected his partisans, took another house
in a lane in Thomas-street, and again commenced preparations for a
popular rebellion. The ramifications of treason were easily extended
through Ireland, where the discontent of the Catholics induced them to joiu
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. »583
in a,ny extravagant scheme which promised them redress of grievances.
Emmet had correspondents in every county ; and the 23rd of July 1803
was the day appointed for a general rising, the signal of which was to be
an attack upon Dublin.
The plan of surprising tlie metropolis was admirably adapted for its
sanguinary purpose ; but fortunately several disappointments took place,
and Emmet was unable to proceed as he intended. In the confusion of
such a moment the rebels deceived one another, and several hundred men,
who came in from the country, returned home, being told that the rising
was postponed, while those who remained were crowded into the depot, and
impeded the preparations. It was too late, however, to retract, or alter
the intended movement, as Emmet expected the whole country to rise on
that night. He therefore made the desperate attempt, and, with eighty
followers, sallied out, at nine o'clock, into Thomas-street, and made
towards the Castle, which he intended to surprise.
The experience of a few minutes showed him his madness and folly ;
for he quickly found himself without authority, in the midst of a ruffianly
mob, who wotild neither obey nor accompany him ; but who soon con-
vinced him, that, though cowardly, they were brutal and sanguinary.
When he had arrived at the market-house, his followers had diminished
to eighteen , and as he was now convinced of his rashness, he prevented
the discharge of a rocket which was to be the signal for the outposts to
commence hostilities. This act saved the lives of hundreds, for the Wex-
ford men, to the number of three hundred, had assembled on the Coal-
quay, and other large bodies had met in the barley-fields behiiid Mountjoy-
square ; all of whom, in consequence, escaped uninjured, and were pre-
vented from inflicting injury on others.
The rebel band in Thomas-street, meanwhile, largely increased in num-
bers; but, being without a leader, they remained confused and inactive. At
this moment, however, an act of atrocity Avas perpetrated, sufficiently
serious to exhibit the nature of the design. The coach of the lamented
Lord Kilwarden, chief-justice of the Court of King's Bench, containing
his lordship, and his nephew and niece, the Rev. Mr. Wolfe, and Miss
Wolfe, drove up, and was instantly surrounded. Much confusion pre-
vailed, and his lordship received a deadly stab from the hand of an assassin
v/hich eventually deprived him of life : his nephew was dragged from the
vehicle and ill-treated; but Miiss Wolfe was borne to an opposite house in
the arms of a lusty rebel, apparently more humane than his comrades.
The precise particulars of the murder of Lord Kilwarden are not known,
and have always been the subject of controversy. By some it is alleged
that it was the unpremeditated act of a ferocious rabble ; by others, that
he was mistaken for another person; but there is another account, which
admits the mistake in the first instance, but subjoins other particulars,
which appear sufficiently probable. It is related, that, in the year 1795,
when his lordship was attorney-general, a number of young men, between
the ages of fifteen and twenty years, were indicted for high treason, and
upon the day appointed for their trial they appeared at the bar, wearing
fchirts with tuckers and open collars, in the manner usual with boys. When
the chief-justice of the King's Bench appeared in court to proceed with their
ferial, he remarked, " Well, Mr. Attorney, I suppose you are ready to go on
384 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
with tlie trial of these tuckered traitors?" The attorney-general was qnite
prepared to proceed at once; but, disgusted with the remark which had been
made, he said, " No, my lord, I am not ready ;" and he added in a lower
tone to the prisoners' counsel, " If I have any power to save the lives of
these boys, whose extreme youth I did not before observe, that man shall
never have the gratification of passing sentence upon one of these tuckered
traitors." He performed his promise, and soon afterwards procured par-
dons for them all, upon condition of their going abroad. One of them,
however, refused to accept the pardon upon the condition imposed ; and
being obstinate, he was tried, convicted, and executed. After his death,
it is said that his relatives, readily listening to every misrepresentation
which flattered their resentment, became persuaded that the attorney-
general had selected him alone to suffer the utmost severity of tlie laws.
One of these, a person named Shannon, was an insurgent of the 23rd July ;
and when Lord Kilwarden, hearing the popular cry of venofeance,
exclaimed from his carriage, " It is I, Kilwarden, chief-justice of the
King's Bench," Shannon inmiediately cried out, " Then you are the man I
want," and instantly plunged a pike into his lordship s body.
Whatever may be the truth or falsehood of this story, his lordship's
death, there is no doubt, was the effect of the violence of the mob on this
occasion ; and it appears, that the fatal wound had scarcely been given,
when a party of military reaching the spot, the people were put to flight,
and his lordship's body rescued from further violence, and conveyed to
Werburgh-street.
Major Swan soon after arrived, and in his fury at the attack upon
so good a man, exclaimed indignantly, that every rebel taken with arms
in his hands ought to be instantly hanged ; when his lordship, who
still lived, turned round, and impressively exhorted him " to let no man
suffer but by the laws of his country." In a few minutes after, this great
and good man expired.
Fur a few hours the rebels continued to skirmish with the military, and
several men were killed. By morning, however, all appearance of rebellion
had vanished, and large rewards were oflered for the apprehension of the
leader, Robert Emmet, who had escaped to the county of Wicklow,
where he arrived in time to prevent a rising of the assembled rebels.
This unfortunate young man was every way an enthusiast; for his love
was as extravagant as his patriotism. It appears that soon after his re-
turn from France he visited at the house of Curran, the celebrated Irish
barrister, and became attached to that gentleman's youngest daughter.
Their affection was mutual, but unknown to ]Mr. Curran. Upon the fail-
ure of the insurrection Emmet might easily have effected his departure
from the kingdom, had he attended solely to his safety; but, in the same
spirit of romantic enthusiasm which distinguished his short career, he could
not submit to leave the country to which he could never more return, with-
out making an effort to have one final interview with the object of his un-
fortunate attachment, in order to receive her personal forgiveness for what
he now considered as the deepest injury. With a view of obtaining this
last gratification, he selected a place of concealment midway between IMr.
Curran's country-house and Dublin; but before the meeting took place he
was arrested. On his person were found some papers, which showed that
■IHE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 385
he corresponded with Mr. Curran's family, in consequence of which that
gentleman's house was searched, and the letters there found were produced
in evidence against him.
His trial came on, at the sessions-house. Green-street, Dublin, Septem-
ber the 19th, 1803, before Lord Norbury; and the evidence being conclu-
sive, his conviction followed. When called iipon in the usual way, before
passing sentence, he addressed the Court as follows: —
"■ I am asked if I have anything to say why sentence of death should
not be pronounced upon me. Was I to sufter only death, after being ad-
judged guilty, I should bow in silence; but a man in my situation has not
only to combat with the difficulties of fortune, but also the difficulties of
prejudice: the sentence of the law which delivers over his body to the
executioner, consigns his character to obloquy. The man dies, but his
memory lives; and that mine may not forfeit all claim to the respect of my
countrymen, I use this occasion to vindicate myself from some of the
charges advanced against me.
" I am charged with being an emissary of France: — 'tis false! I am no
emissary — I did not wish to deliver up my country to a foreign power,
and least of all, to France. No ! never did I entertain the idea of esta-
blisliing French power in Ireland — God forbid! On the contrary, it is
evident from the introductory paragraph of the Address of the Provisional
Government, that every hazard attending an independent effort was deemed
preferable to the more fatal risk of introducing a French army into the
country. Small would be our claims to patriotism and to sense, and pal-
pable our affectation of the love of liberty, if we were to encourage the
profanation of our shores by a peojile who are slaves themselves, and the
unprincipled and abandoned instruments of imposing slavery on others. If
such an inference be drawn from any part of the proclamation of the Pro-
visional Government, it calumniates their views, and is riot warranted by
the fact. — How could they speak of freedom to their countrymen? How
assume such an exalted motive, and meditate the introduction of a power
which has been tlie enemy of freedom in every part of tlie globe? Re-
viewing the conduct of France to other countries, could we expect better
towards us? No! Let not, then, any man attaint my memory by believ-
ing that I could have hoped for freedom through the aid of France, and
betrayed the sacred cause of liberty, by committing it to the power of her
most determined foe: had I done so, I had not deserved to live; and dying
with such a weight upon my character, I had merited the honest execra-
tion of that country which gave me birth, and to which I would have
given freedom.
"Had I been in Switzerland, I would have fought against the French — in
the dignity of freedom, I would have expired on the threshold of that
country, and they should have entered it only by passing over my lifeless
corpse. Is it, tlien, to be supposed, that I would be slow to make the
same sacrifice to my native land? Am I, who lived but to be of service
to my country, and who would subject myself to the bondage of the grave
to give her independence — am I to be loaded with the foul and grievous
calumny of being an emissary of France? JVIy Lords, it may be part of
the system of angry justice to bow a man's mind by humiliation to meet
the ignominy of the scaffold; but worse to me than the scaffold's shame
or th** scaffold's terrors, would be the imputation of having been the agent
VOL. I. 3d
386 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
of French despotism and ambition ; and while I have breath I will call
upon my countrymen not to believe me guilty of so foul a crime against
their liberties and their happiness.
" Though you, my lord, sit there a judge, and I stand here a culprit, yet
you are but a man, and I am another; I. have a right therefore to vindi-
cate my character and motives from the aspersions of calumny; and as a
man to whom fame is dearer than life, I will make the last use of that life
in rescuing my name and my memory from the afflicting imputation of
having been an emissary of France, or seeking her interference in the in-
ternal regulation of our affairs.
" Did I live to see a French army approach this country, I would meet
it on the shore with a torch in one hand and a sword in the other — I
would receive them with all the destruction of war ! I would animate my
countrjTuen to immolate them in their very boats; and before our native
soil should be polluted by a foreign foe, if they succeeded in landing, I
would burn every blade of grass before them, raze every house, contend to
the last for every inch of ground, and the last spot on which the hope of
freedom should desert me, that spot I would make my grave : what I can-
not do, I leave a legacy to my country, because I feel conscious that my
death were unprofitable, and all hope of liberty extinct, the moment a
French army obtained a footing in this land. God forbid that I should
see my country under the hands of a foreign power. If the French should
come as a foreign enemy. Oh! my countrymen! meet them on the shore
with a torch in one hand, a sword in the other: receive them with all the
jJestruction of war; immolate them in their boats before our native soil
shall be polluted by a foreign foe! If they proceed in landing, fight them
on the strand, burn every blade of grass before them as they advance —
raze every house; and if you are driven to the centre of your country, col-
lect your provisions, your property, your wives, and your daughters; form
a circle around them — fight while but two men are left ; and when but
one remains, let that man set fire to the pile, and release himself, and the
families of his fallen countrymen, from the tyranny of France.
" My lamp of life is nearly expired — my race is finished: the grave
opens to receive me, and I sink into its bosom. All I request, then, at
parting from the world, is the charity of its silence. Let no man write my
epitaph; for as no man, who knows my motives, dare vindicate them, let
not prejudice or ignorance asperse them; let them and me repose in obscu-
rity and peace, and my tomb remain undescribed, till other times and other
men can do justice to my character."
Judgment was then passed on him in the usual form, and he was
ordered for execution. On his return to Newgate he drew up a statement
of the insurrection, and the cause of its failure, which he requested might
be sent to his brother, Thomas Addis, who was then at Paris.
The unfortunate young man, on the night before his execution, ^^Tote to
Mr. Curran and his son Robert, excusing himself for his conduct towards
Miss Curran, and the firmness and regularity of the original hand- writing
contain an affecting proof of the little influence which the approaching
event exerted over his frame. The same enthusiasm which allured him to
his destruction enabled him to support its utmost rigour. He met his fate
with unost(>ntatious fortitude; and although few could ever tliink of jus-
tifying his projects or regretting their failure, yet his youth, his talents,
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 387
and the great respectability of his connexions, and the evident delusion of
which he was the victim, liave excited more general sympathy for his un-
fortunate end, and more forbearance towards his memory, than is usually
extended to the errors or sufterings of political offenders.
Moore, the celebrated Irish bard, has lamented his fate in the following
melody: —
Oh! breathe not liis name — let it sleep in t^.c shade ?
Where cold and unhonor'd his relics are laid 1
Sad, silent, and darl<, be the tears that we shed,
As the night-dew that falls on the grass o'er his head.
But the night-dew that falls, though in silence it weeps,
Shall brighten witli verdure the grave where he sleeps;
And the tear that we shed, though in secret it rolls.
Shall long keep his memory green in our souls.
Several of Emmet's deluded followers met the fate of their leader, and
by their ignominious deaths, taught their countrymen the folly and mad-
ness of attempting to separate Ireland from this kingdom by violent
means.
The following pathetic history of ]\Iiss Curran, after the death of her
lover, is extracted from Washington Irving's " Sketch Book," in which it
appears under the title of " The Broken Heart." It is rather long, but
its beauty will amply repay the trouble of its perusal : —
" Every one must recollect the tragical story of young E , the Irish
patriot ; it was too touching to be soon forgotten. During the troubles in
Ireland he was tried, condemned, and executed, on a charge of treason. His
fiite made a deep impression on public sympathy. He was so young — so
intelligent — so generous — so brave — so everything that we are apt to like
in a young man. His conduct under trial, too, was so lofty and intrepid!
The noble indignation with which he repelled the charge of treason against
his country — the eloquent vindication of his name — and his pathetic appeal
to posterity, in the hopeless hour of condemnation — all these entered deeply
into every generous bosom, and even his enemies lamented the stem policy
that dictated his execution.
" But there was one heart, whose anguish it would be impossible to de-
scribe. In happier days and fairer fortunes, he had won the affections of a
beautiful and interesting girl, the daughter of a late celebrated Irish bar-
rister. She loved him with the disinterested fervour of a woman's first
and early love. When every worldly maxim arrayed itself against him;
when blasted in fortune, and disgrace and danger darkened around his
name, she loved him tlie more ardently for his very sufferings. If, then,
his fate could awaken the sympathy even of his foes, what must have been
the agony of her wliose soul was occupied by his image'. Let those tell
who have had the portals of the tomb suddenly closed between them and
tht being they most loved on earth — who have sat at its threshold, as one
shut out in a cold and lonely world, from whence ail that was most lovely
and loving had departed.
" But then tlie hori'ors of such a grave! so frightful, so dishonoured!
There was nothing for memory to dwell on that could soothe the pang of
separation — none of those tender, though melancholy circumstances, that
endear the parting scene — nothing to melt sorrow into those blessed tears,
388 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
sent, like the dews of heaven, to revive the lieart in the parching hour of
anguish.
" To render her widowed situation more desolate, she had incurred her
father's displeasure by her unfortunate attachment, and was an exile from
the paternal roof. But could the sympathy and kind offices of friends
have reached a spirit so shocked and driven in by horror, she would have
experienced no want of consolation ; for the Irish are a people of quick and
generous sensibilities. The most delicate and cherishing attentions were
paid her by families of wealth and distinction. She was led into society,
and they tried by all kinds of occupation and amusement to dissipate her
grief, and wean her from the tragical story of her lover. But it was all in
vain. There are some strokes of calamity that scathe and scorch the soul
— that penetrate to the vital seat of happiness — and blast it, never again to
put forth bud or blossom. She never objected to frequent the haunts of
pleasure, but she was as much alone there as in the depth of solitude. She
walked about in a sad reverie, apparently unconscious of the world around
her. She carried with her an inward woe that mocked at all the bland-
ishments of friendship, and ' heeded not the song of the charmer, charm
he never so wisely.'
" The person who told me her story had seen her at a masquerade.
There can be no exhibition of far-gone wretchedness more striking and
painful than to meet it in such a scene. To find it wandering like a spec-
tre, lonely and joyless, where all around is gay — to see it dressed out in the
trappings of mirth, and looking so wan and woe-begone, as if it had tried
in vain to cheat the poor heart into a momentary forgetfulness of sorrow.
After strolling through the splendid rooms and giddy crowd with an utter
air of abstraction, she sat herself down on the steps of an orchestra, and
looking nbout some time with a vacant air, that showed her insensibility
of the garish scene, she began, with the capriciousness of a sickly heart, to
warble a little plaintive air. She had an exquisite voice ; but on this
occasion it was so simple, so touching, it breatlied forth such a soul of
wretchedness, that she drew a crowd mute and silent around her, and
melted every one into tears.
" The story of one so true and tender could not but excite great interest
in a country remarkable for enthusiasm. It completely won the heart of
a brave officer, who paid his addresses to her, and thought that one so
true to the dead could not but prove affi^ctionate to the living. She de-
clined his attentions, for her thoughts were irrevocably engrossed by the
memory of her former lover. Pie, however, persisted in his suit. He
solicited not her tenderness, but her esteem. He was assisted by her con-
viction of his worth, and her sense of her own destitute and dependent
situation ; for she was existing on the kindness of her friends. In a word,
he at length succeeded in gaining lier hand, though with the solemn
assurance that her heart was unalterably anotlier's.
" He took her with him to Sicily, hoping that a change of scene might
wear out the remembrance of early woes. She was an amiable and ex-
emplary wife, and made an efibrt to be a happy one; but nothing could
cure the silent and devouring melancholy that had entered into her very
soul. She wasted away in a slow, but hoj)eless decline; and at length
<;ank into the grave, the victim of a broken heart."
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 389
COLONEL EDWARD MARCUS DESPARD, JOHN FRANCIS,
JOHN WOOD, AND OTHERS.
EXECUTED FOR HIGH TREASON.
The professed object of the plot, in which these misguided men were
enoraged, was neither more or less than the overthrow of the Government,
and the destruction of tlie Royal Family.
The men, who were found guilty of being concerned in the project, were
Edward Marcus Despard, aged fifty, a colonel in the army; John Francis,
a private soldier, aged twenty-three ; John Wood, a private soldier, aged
thirty-six ; Thomas Broughton, a carpenter, aged twenty-six ; James
Sedgwick Wratton, a shoemaker, aged thirty-five ; John Macnamara,
a carpenter, aged fifty ; and Arthur Graham, a slater, aged fifty-three.
Colonel Despard, the ill-starred leader of the conspirators, was descended
from a very ancient and respectable family, in the Queen's County in Ire-
land. He was the youngest of six brothers, all of whom, except the
eldest, had served their country, either in the army or navy.
In 1766 he entered the army as an ensign in the 3th regiment ; and he
afterwards served in the same regiment as a lieutenant ; and in the 79th
he successively held rank as lieutenant, quarter-master, captain-lieutenant,
and captain. From his superior officers he received many marks of appro-
bation, particularly from General Calcraft, of the 50th, General Meadows,
and the Duke of Northumberland. He had been, for the last twenty
years before his execution, detached from any particular corps, and in-
trusted with important offices.
In 1779, he was appointed chief engineer to the St. Juan expedition,
and conducted himself so as to obtain distinguished praise. He also re-
ceived the thanks of the council and assembly of Jamaica, for the construc-
tion of public works there, and was, in consequence of these services,
appointed, by the governor of Jamaica, to be commander-in-chief of the
island of Rattan and its dependencies, and of the troops there ; and to rank
as lieutenant-colonel and field-engineer-; and he commanded, as such, on
the Spanish Main in Rattan, and on the JMusquito shore, and Bay of Hon-
duras. After this, at Cape Gracias a Dios, he put himself at the head
of the inhabitants, who voluntarily solicited him to take the command,
and retook from the Spaniards Black River, the principal settlement of
the coast. For this service he received the thanks of the governor, council,
and assembly of Jamaica, and of the king himself. In 1788, he was pro-
moted to the rank of colonel. In 1784, he was appointed first commis-
sioner for settling and receiving the territory ceded to Britain by the sixth
article of the definitive treaty of peace with Spain, in 1783; and he so
well discharged his duty as colonel, that he was appointed superintendant
of his majesty's aft'airs on the coast of Honduras, which office he lield
much to the advantage of the crown of England, for he obtained from tliat
of Spain some very important privileges. The clashing interests, however,
of the inhabitants of this coast produced much discontent, and the colonel
was, by a party of them, accused of various misdemeanours to his majesty's
ministers.
He now came home, and demanded that bis conduct should be investi-
390 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
gated ; but, after two years' constant attendance on all the departments of
government, he was at last told by the ministers, that there was no charge
against him worthy of notice, and that his Majesty liad thought proper to
abolish the office of superintendant at Honduras, otherwise he should have
been reinstated in it ; but he was then, and on every occasion, assured,
that his services should not be forgotten, but that they should, in due
time, meet their reward.
Irritated by continued disappointments, he began to vent his indignation
in an unguarded manner, and thus rendering himself liable to suspicion, he
was for a considerable time confined in Cold Bath-fields' Prison, under the
provisions of the Habeas Corpus Suspension Act, then recently passed.
On his liberation it was found that his passions were not cooled by the
imprisonment which he had imdergone ; and inflamed against the govern-
ment himself, he at length succeeded in gaining over to his views others
whose causes of complaint were even more trivial than tliose of their leader.
Their proceedings soon became so notorious, that it was determined that
the existence of the society which they had formed was no longer con-
sistent with public safety ; and in consequence of representations which
were made, a search-warrant was issued, which was placed in the hands of
the police for execution. A strong body of constables having assembled,
they all proceeded to the Oakley Arms, Oakley-street, Lambeth, where
thev found and apprehended Colonel Despard and about forty other persons
assembled in a room together, the greater part of whom were men of in-
different character, and of low station in life. The prisoners were on the
following day carried to Union Hall, to be examined by the magistrates
sitting there ; and in the end Colonel Despard, and thirty-two of his com-
panions, were committed to Horsemonger-lane Gaol to await the final and
determinate investigation of their cases before a jury.
For the better and more effectual trial of the prisoners, a special com-
mission was issued, by virtue of which they were arraigned, on indict-
ments which had been found against them, on the 7th February, 1803.
The first case gone into was that of Despard, and the indictment having
been read, the case for the prosecution was opened by the attorney-general ;
and he stated that the prisoners had formed a society, the object of which was
to overturn the government. His Majesty having intended to meet his Par-
liament a week earlier than he actually did, namely, on the 16th January
instead of on the 23rd, the society proposed on that day to carry out their
plan, which was in the first instance to lay a restraint upon the King's
person, and to destroy him. They frequently attempted to seduce soldiers
into their club, and on any of them being persuaded to join them, they
administered false oaths to them, and gave them copies of the oath, in
order that they might endeavour to make proselytes in their turn.
Among others thus gained over was one Windsor, but soon after he had
joined he became dissatisfied, and gave information of the conspiracy to a
Mr. Bonus, to whom he showed a copy of tlie oath, but by the ad%4ce of
that gentleman, he remained a member of the society with the design of
learnino- whether there were any persons of note among its members. On
the Friday before the intended assassination of the King, a meeting was
held, at which Broughton, the prisoner, prevailed upon two of tlie associates
to go to the Flying Horse, Newington, where they would meet with a "nice
man," and it turned out that the person so described was Colonel Despard.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 391
The witnesses were then examined ; and after proof of the appre-
hension of the prisoners, as described already, had been given, and the
printed papers which had been found, and which contained the form of the
oath, &c., had been read, Thomas Windsor, the chief witness, was called.
He deposed as to the manner in which he took the oath, the effect of
which was to bind him to support the views of the society in opposition to
the King and his Government, and then proceeded to detail the plan
wliich was propoeed to be put into execution. Despard was the leader and
director of the whole proceedings ; and he recommended that the proposed
attack should be made on that day when his Majesty went to open Par-
liament. The object was to seize the person of the King ; and Despard
declared that " he had weighed the matter well, and that his heart was
callous, and the King must be put to death." When the murder of his
Majesty had been effected, the mail-coaches were to be stopped, so as to
convey information to the agents of the plotters in the country of what
had occurred ; and then a simultaneous rising was to take place. The
witness was to be engaged as an active party in the proceedings of the
conspirators, and he was desired by the prisoner to meet him on Tower-
hill, with some comrades, who were desirous of joining the society, to con-
sider the best mode of surprising the Tower and securing the arms. Accom-
panied by the prisoner Wood therefore, and two other men, he went to
the Tiger public-house. Tower-hill, where Despard soon joined them. The
determination to destroy the reigning monarch was then again mentioned
by Despard ; and after a long discussion, it was agreed that Wood, whose
turn it would be to stand sentry in the Park, near the great gun, should
fire into the King's carriage. Before this diabolical design, however, could
be carried into execution, the parties to the plot were apprehended.
Mr. Serjeant Best and Mr. Gurney, who were retained as counsel foi
Despard, severally addressed the jury on his behalf, contending that the
testimony of Windsor was of such a character as to be entitled to no belief ;
and they then called Lord Nelson, Sir A. Clarke, and Sir E. Nepean, all
of whom bore testimony to the character of the prisoner as a zealous and
gallant officer. Lord EUenborough, however, having summed up the evi-
dence, the jury returned a verdict of Guilty, but earnestly recommended
the prisoner to mercy, on account of his previous good character, and the
services he had rendered to his country.
The other prisoners were subsequently tried, and twelve of them
convicted upon the same evidence, three of whom were recommended to
mercy.
On the prisoners being brought up to receive judgment. Colonel Despard,
who had hitherto invariably preserved a strict silence, declared his inno-
cence of the charge imputed to him of seducing the soldiers, and urged
that the jury ought not to have convicted him upon such evidence as had
been adduced.
The sentence was then pronounced upon them as traitors in the usual
form ; and on Saturday the 19th of February, information was received
that the warrant of execution, authorising their being hano-ed on the
Monday following, was made out, a portion of their sentence, namely, tlie
taking out and burning of the bowels, being remitted. It was sent to the
keeper of the New Gaol in the Borough, at six o'clock on Saturday evenino-,
and included the names already given, three other prisoners, named Newman,
392 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
Tyndal and Lander, being respited. As soon as the warrant for execution
was received, it was communicated to the unliappy persons by the keeper
of the prison ; when Colonel Despard observed that the time was short, yet
h3 had not had, from the first, any strong expectation tliat the recommend-
ation of the jury would be effectual. The mediation of Lord Nelson, and
a petition to the crown, were tried ; but Colonel Despard was convinced,
according to report, that they would be unavailing. Mrs. Despard, who
was a native of the Bay of Honduras, was greatly affected when she first
heard his fate was sealed ; but she afterwards recovered her fortitude, and
bore up with great firmness at parting with her husband.
The other prisoners bore their doom with equal fortitude, but conducted
themselves with less solemnity than the colonel. Their wives were
allowed to take a farewell of them on the same day, and the scene was
truly distressing.
At day-light on Sunday morning, the drop, scaffold, and gallows, on
which they were to be executed, were erected on the top of the gaol. All
the Bow-street patrol, and many other peace-officers, were on duty all
day and night ; and a large body of the military was drawn up close to it.
On the following morning, Monday the 21st of February, 1803, at half-
past six o'clock, the prison bell rang — the signal for unlocking the cells.
At seven, Broughton, Francis, Graham, Wood, and Wratton went into
the chapel withthe Rev. Mr. Winkworth. They attended to the prayers
with great earnestness, but at the same time without seeming to lose that
firmness which they had displayed since their trial. Before they received
the sacrament, four of them confessed they had done wrong, but not to the
extent charged against them by the evidence. The fifth, Graham, said
that he was innocent of the charges brought against him ; but he admitted
that he had attended two meetings, the second at the instigation of Francis.
For some time the clergyman refused to administer the sacrament to
Francis, because he persisted in declaring he had been guilty of no crime.
The clergyman said to him, " You admit you attended meetings ? " He
answered, " Yes." " You knew they w^ere for the purpose of overturning
the constitution of the country ? I by no means wish you to enter into par-
ticulars. I only wish you to acknowledge generally." Francis rejoined,
" I admit I have done wrong in attending those meetings ;" and the sacra-
ment was then administered to them.
Colonel Despard and Macnamara were then brought down from their
cells, their irons knocked off, and their arms bound with ropes. On
observing the sledge and apparatus the colonel smilingly cried out, " Ha !
ha ! what nonsensical mummery is this !"
When the awful procession began, which was at half-past eight o'clock
precisely, l\Lacnamara was the first that came out. Colonel Despard was
the last that appeared. He stept into the hurdle with much fortitude,
having an executioner on the right and on the left, on the same seat, with
naked cutlasses. He was thus conducted to the outer lodge, whence he
ascended the staircase leading to the place of execution. The prisoners
Nere preceded by the sheriff. Sir R. Ford, the clergyman, Mr. Winkworth,
and the Roman Catholic clergyman, Mr. Griffith.
Coffins, or shells, wliich had been previously placed in a room under the
scaffold, were then brought up, and placed on the platform, on which the
drop was erected ; a bag of sawdust, to catch the blood when the lieads
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 393
were severed from the bodies, was placed beside them. The block was
near the scaffold. There were about a hundred spectators on the platform,
among whom were some persons of distinction, but the greatest order was
observed.
Macnamara was the first on the platform ; and when the cord was
placed round his neck, he exclaimed, " Lord Jesus, have mercy upon me !
0 Lord, look down with pity upon me!" The populace were much struck
by his appearance. Graham came second ; he looked pale and gliastly,
but spoke not ; Wratton was the third ; he ascended the scaffold with
much firmness. Broughton, who was the fourth, joined in prayer with
much earnestness. Wood was the fifth, and Francis the sixth. They
were all equally composed.
Colonel Despard ascended the scaffold with great firmness, and his
countenance underwent not the slightest change while the awful ceremony
of fastening the rope round his neck, and placing the cap on his head, was
performing ; he even assisted the executioner in adjusting the rope ; and
looked at the multitude with perfect calmness.
The clergyman, who ascended the scaffold after the prisoners were tied
up, spoke to him a few words as he passed, and the colonel bowed and
thanked him. The ceremony of fastening the prisoners being finished, the
colonel advanced, as near as he could, to the edge of the scaffold, and made
the following speech to the multitude : —
" Fellow Citizens, — I come here, as you see, after having served my
country — faithfully, honourably, and usefully served it, for thirty years
and upwards — to suffer death upon a scaffold for a crime of which I pro-
test I am not guilty. I solemnly declare that I am no more guilty of it
than any of you who may be now hearing me. But, though his Majesty's
ministers know as well as I do that I am not guilty, yet they avail them-
selves of a legal pretext to destroy a man, because he has been a friend to
truth, to liberty, and justice " [[There was a considerable huzza from
part of the populace the nearest to iiim, but who, from the height of the
scaffold from the ground, could not, for a certainty, distinctly hear what
was said. The colonel proceeded^ " because he has been a friend to
the poor and distressed. But, citizens, I hope and trust, notwithstanding
my fate, and the fate of those who no doubt will soon follow me, that the
principles of freedom, of humanity, and of justice, will finally triumph over
falsehood, tyranny, and delusion, and every principle hostile to the interests
of the human race. And now, having said this, I have little more to
add " [The colonel's voice seemed to falter a little here — he paused a
moment, as if he had meant to say something more, but had forgotten it
lie then concluded in the following manner.] " I have little more to add,
except to wish you all health, happiness, and freedom, which I have endea
voured, as far as was in my power, to procure for you and for mankind in
general."
The Colonel generally spoke in a firm and audible tone of voice, and left
off sooner than was expected. There was no public expression of feeling at
the conclusion of his address.
As soon as he had ceased speaking, the clergyman prayed with the other
prisoners, and after a few minutes he shook each by the hand. The execu-
tioners then pulled the caps over the faces of the unhappy men, and having
quitk-^d the scaffold, the signal was immediately afterwards given, and the
vor,. I. ^ E
394 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
drop fell. The Colonel had not one struggle ; twice he opened and shut his
hands, convulsively, and he stirred no more. Macnaniara, Graham, "Wood,
and "Wratton were motionless after a few struggles, but Broughton and
Francis were much convulsed for some time atter their companions had
ceased to live.
After they had hung for ahont half an hour, and when they were quite
dead, the}'- were cut down. Colonel Despard was the first who was re-
moved from the gallows ; his body was placed upon sawdust, and his head
upon a block ; and after his coat had been taken oft', his head was severed
from his body by persons engaged on purpose to perform that ceremony.
The executioner then took the liead by the hair, and carrying it to tiie
edo-e of the parapet on the right hand, held it up to the view of the popu-
lace, and exclaimed " This is the head of a traitor, Edward Marcus Des-
pard." The same ceremony was performed on the parapet at the left
hand. There was some hooting and hissing when the colonel's head was
exhibited. His remains were now put into the shell that had been pre-
pared for them.
The other prisoners were afterwards successively cut down, their heads
severed from their bodies, and exhibited to the populace, with the same
exclamation of, " This is the head of another traitor :" and the bodies were
put into their difterent shells, and delivered to their friends for interment.
The crowd at the entrance of Horsemonger-lane was immense ; and as
the time of execution drew near, the people from ail parts came with such
force as to bear down all opposition. Those who had been in dry situa-
tions were pushed into the middle of the road, where they stood almost
up to the knees in mud, and many lost theu- shoes by the continual push-
ing and jostling.
While the heads were exhibiting, the populace took off" their hats. The
execution was over by ten o'clock, and the populace soon after dispersed
quietly. There was not the least tendency to riot or disturbance. The
precautions, however, taken by Government, were only such as were highly
necessary and proper. A sky-rocket was sent to the keeper of the prison
to be let oft", as a signal to the military, in case of any disturbance.
The body of Colonel Despard having lain at JMount-row, opposite the
Asylum, was taken away on the first of March, by his friends, with a
hearse and three mourning-coaches, and interred near the north door of
St. Paul's Cathedral, St. Paul's churchyard. The crowd was great ; but
when the grave was covered in, the people immediately and quietly dis-
persed. The city marshal was present, lest there should be any disturb-
ance on the occasion.
JOHN HATFIELD.
EXECUTED FOR FORGERY,
The variety of the adventures of this man render his name worthy to
be recorded in the annals of crime.
It appears that he was the son of poor parents, who lived at Mortram,
near Longdale, in Clieshire, and that he was born there, in the year 1759.
Havincr by some means procured the situation of rider or traveller to a
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 395
linen-draper in the north of England, in the course of his travels he
became acquainted with a young woman, who was under the guardianship
of a respectable farmer, but who was in reality the natural daughter of
Lord Robert Manners. The secret of her birth was not generally known,
but it was communicated to our hero, Avith an intimation that upon her
marriage, provided it should be with the consent of her father, a dowry of
1000^. would be paid. He therefore lost no time in securing the good
will of the young lady, and having then obtained the consent of her noble
father, he was married to her, and received from his lordship the siim of
1500/. The money, however, was soon spent in the gaieties of London,
by the bridegroom, and with his wife he was compelled to retreat into the
country, where he continued until the year 1782. He, then, again visited
the metropolis, having deserted his wife and three children, and in spite of
his fallen fortunes he proceeded to live in a style of considerable extrava-
gance, boasting of his near connexion with the Rutland family, and of his
estates in the country. In the course of his residence in London, his
unhappy wife died, and our hero wa« almost immediately afterwards con-
veyed to the King's Bench Prison for a debt of 160/. By the practice of
an imposture he succeeded in obtaining the payment of his debt by the
Duke of Rutland, and his consequent discharge, and he was then again
thrown upon town to live upon his wits.
In the year 1785, the Duke of Rutland was appointed lord lieutenant
of Irelaml ; and directly after his arrival in Dublin, Hatfield followed
him. and taking up his abode at a hotel in College-green, acquainted the
landlord with his pretended connexion witli the viceroy, and declared that
he was only prevented from proceeding at once to the Castle, by the cir-
cumstance of his carriage, and horses, and servants, not having yet aiTived.
A month was passed by the lodger in a pretended continued state of dis-
ai)pointnient at the non-appearance of his equipage, and at the expiration
of that period the landlord took the liberty of presenting his bill, which
amounted to upwards of sixty pounds. Mr. Hatfield was in nowise con-
fused, but said that altliough, fortunately, his agent was then in Ireland
holding a public situation, he was, at that time, on a visit in the country,
from which he would not return for three days. The landlord was satis-
fied ; but on the fourth day he again made his appearance, and having
been now directed to a gentleman at the Castle, he forthwith proceeded
to him with his account. The answer was of a nature most unsatisfactory
to his wishes ; for the supposed agent very frankly told him, that he was
the dupe of an impudent impostor ; but he received some consolation from
his being informed that others had suflFered as well as he. His guest,
however, was one who was no longer welcome at his table, but being
under the necessity of driving liim from his own house, he provided him
with other lodgings in the Marshalsea, to which he was conveyed by
virtue of a writ issued at his instance. On his entering the jail, Hatfield
whispered the keeper and his wife, "to be sure and keep it a profound secret
that he was a relation of the viceroy, as it might not be agreeable to his
Excellency, that it should be known that he was in prison ;" and the
people, astonished at the discovery, which they then made for the first time,
conducted him to the best apartment, had a table provided, and continued
to furnish him with all the necessary commodities for his support during
the ensuing three weeks. In the meantime, however, he had again peti-
a96 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
tioned the Duke for fresh supplies, and his Grace, being apprehensive that
he miffht continue his impositions in Dublin, released him on condition of
h's quitting IreUxnd ; and in order to be assured that this stipulation was
obeyed, he sent a servant to see him on board the next vessel sailing for
Holyhead.
He next visited Scarborough, and there practised similar impositions ;
but his frauds being discovered, he was arrested and lodged in jail, wliere
he now continued for a period of eight years and a half. At the ex-
piration of that time, a i\Iiss Nation, of Devonshire, paid his debts and
procured his liberation ; and furthermore bestowed her hand on him in
marriage. lie then had the good fortune to obtain admission into a re-
spectable firm at Tiverton as partner, and continued to live during about
three years in apparent respectability ; but then, having put upas a candi-
date for the borough of Queenborough, his real character was discovered,
and he was made a bankrupt. He now retired, leaving his second wife
and two children beliind him ; and nothing more was heard of him until
the year 1802, when he drove up in a carriage to the Queen's Head Inn,
at Keswick, and assumed the name of Colonel the Hon. Alexander Augustus
Hope, brother of the Earl of Hopetoun, and member for Linlithgow.
Unfortunately some evil genius directed his steps to the once happy cot-
taoe of poor jMary, the only daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Robinson, an old
couple, who kept a small public-house at the side of the beautiful lake of
Buttermere, Cumberland ; and who, by their industry, had amassed a
small property ; and poor JMary of Buttermere, whose cliarms have since
become so celebrated from Wordsworth's sweet poem in which they are
described, was doomed to become the victim of his villanous schemes.
During a short stay at Buttermere, he contrived to wheedle himself into
the good graces of poor Mary ; but he was not to be satisfied witli the
possession of a country girl, when higher game came in view. On his
first arrival at Keswick, he became acquainted with an Irish gentleman
named JNIurphy, a member of the then existing Irish House of Commons,
who with his family, and accompanied by a young lady, possessed of
a considerable fortune, and no less personal attractions, was on a tour
through the justly admired lakes of England. The afiiible condescension
with which his advances were received, induced him to suppose, that his
address and manners were not displeasing to the young lady, or her
guardian, and he resolved to improve upon the opportunity wliich pre-
sented itself. Quitting the society of the gentle jNIary, therefore, he
returned to Keswick, and, ere long, he had so far ingratiated himself with
the young lady, as to obtain from her a promise of her hand in marriage.
Being known only by liis assumed title, he was urged to write to Lord
Hopetoun, to acquaint him with the intended union, and he promised
instantly to comply with a request which appeared so reasonable. Writing
letters, therefore, which by virtue of his pretended rank of M.P. he franked,
he despatched them, and until answers were received, he proposed various
trips to while away the time. The preparations for tlie marriage,
however, occupied the time and attention of the young lady to too great
a degree to permit her quitting Keswick, and Hatfield seized the oppor-
tunity to continue his courtship to the Beauty of Buttermere. In this
manner some weeks elapsed, without any communication being received
from the Earl of Hopetoun ; and the fi-equent, and now prolonged, ab-
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENUAR. 397
sences of the supposed colonel excited some degree of surprise among his
Irish friends.
At leno-th, on the 1st October 1802, a letter was received from Hat-
field, dated Buttermere, by Mr. Murphy, in which a request was con-
tained that a draft inclosed, purporting to be drawn by Col. Hope, on
Mr. Cranipt, a banker in Liverpool, might be cashed ; and that gentle-
man, still having no good reason to doubt the integrity of his corre-
spondent, immediately transmitted to him 30^., the amount of the check.
On tlie 4th of the same month, however. Wood, the landlord of the
Queen's Head, where the whole party had been stopping, brought over
intelligence from the village of Lorton, in Buttermere, that Colonel Hope
had been married on the previous day to Mary Robinson. On inquiry it
turned out that this was perfectly true, and that the marriage having
taken place, the bride and bridegroom had gone into Scotland to spend tlie
honeymoon ; and it being now obvious, that the latter, wlioever he might
be, had acted most dishonourably towards his ward, Mr. Murphy deter-
mined to write to Lord Hopetoun, for tlie purpose of ascertaining how far
he was entitled to the name and rank which he had assumed. Circum-
stances soon transpired, which induced a belief that he had no pretensions
to the character which he had taken, and a warrant was issued for his
apprehension. In the meantime, he had proceeded with his bride, as far
as Longtown, on their wedding trip, but on reaching that spot, he pre-
tended surprise at not meeting some friends, whom, he said, lie had ex-
pected, and returned to Buttermere. He was there charged with having
assumed a fictitious name, but he flatly deni.^d the trutli of the allegation ;
but the warrant being brought, by which he was alleged to have forged
several franks, as M.P. for Linlithgow, he was committed to the care of a
constable. He, however, found means to make his escape from this cus-
tody ; and having with great boldness passed through several towns,
where his person was known, he was at length apprehended within six-
teen miles of Swansea, and committed to Brecon jail. Before the magis-
trates, he declared that his name was Tudor Henry, but his person being
identified, he was sent to London to be examined. He was then trans-
mitted to Cumberland, where he was charged with forging several franks,
and also with forging the bill for which he had obtained cash at Keswick,
and he was committed for trial ; the charge for bigamy, which also stood
against him, not being preferred.
He was indicted at the ensuing assizes at Carlisle, and tried before Sir
A. Thompson, when the jury found him guilty, and he was sentenced to
deatli.
A notion very generally prevailed that he would escape capital punish-
ment, and the arrival of the mail was daily expected with the greatest
impatience. No pardon arriving, however, September 3, 1803, (Satur-
day,) was at last fixed upon for the execution.
The gallows was erected on the preceding night, between twelve and
three, in an island formed by the river Eden, on the north side of the
town, between the two bridges. From the hour when the jury found
him guilty, he behaved with the utmost serenity and cheerfulness. He
received tlie visits of all who wished to see him, and talked upon the
Lopics of the day with the greatest interest or indifference. He could
scarcely ever be brought to speak of his own case, and he neither blamed
398 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
the verdict, nor made any confession of his guilt. He said that he had
no intention to defraud those whose names he forged ; but was never
heard to say that he was to die unjustly. The alarming nature of the
crime of forgery, in a commercial country, had taught him from the
beginning to entertain no hope of mercy.
By ten o'clock in the morning of September 3, his irons were struck
off ; and he then appeared as usual, and no alteration or increased agita-
tion, whatever, was observed in his manner.
Soon after ten o'clock he sent for the " Carlisle Journal," and perused
It for some time, and a little after he had laid aside the paper, two clergy-
men attended him, and prayed with him. He afterwards wrote several
letters and shaved himself, and at three o'clock he ate a hearty dinner
witli the jailor. Having afterwards drunk two glasses of wine, he par-
took of some coffee, and then set out for the scaffold. He was pinioned
in the turnkey's lodge, where he sent for the executioner and gave him
some silver. He afterwards exhibited great composure, and when he
came to the gallows, he asked whether that " was the tree he was to die
on ?" On being answered in the affirmative, he exclaimed, " Oh ! a
happy sight, I see it with pleasure,"
He then ascended the cart, which had been placed under the rope, and
appeared perfectly cool and collected. Having himself assisted in com-
pleting the requisite preparations, he took leave of the sheriffs, and pre-
pared himself calmly for his fate.
On his being turned off, great apprehensions were entertained that it
would be necessary to tie him up a second time. The noose slipped twice,
and he fell down above eighteen inches, and his feet at last were almost
touching the ground ; but his excessive weight, which occasioned this
accident, speedily relieved him from pain. He expired in a moment, and
without any struggle.
He was cut down after he had hung about an hour. On the preceding
Wednesday he had had a carpenter to take his measure for his coffin, and
he ordered it to be a strong oak one, plain and neat, requesting that, after
he was taken down, he might be put into it immediately, with the apparel
he might have on, and carried to the churchyard of Burgh-on-Sands,
there to be interred in the evening.
The conscientious parishioners of Burgh, however, objected to his being
laid there, and the body was consequently conveyed in the hearse to St.
INIary's, Carlisle, where it was interred in a distant corner of the church-
yard, far from the other tombs. No priest attended, and the coffin was
lowered without any religious service. Notwithstanding his various and
complicated enormities, his untimely end excited considerable commisera-
tion. His manners were extremely polished and insinuating, and he was
posseOTed of qualities which might have rendered him an ornament of
society.
'.y'A.at^^y^z^ au QyA-ocP&.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 399
FRANCIS SMITH.
CONDEMNED FOR THE MURDER OF A SUPPOSED GHOST.
The Hammersmith Ghost will be in the remembrance of every one.
Itp vagaries and mischievous pranks were in some cases productive of
very serious consequences, and in no instance were more melancholy effects
produced than in that of the unfortunate prisoner, whose case is now
before us, who shot a poor man, who offended only in wearing the garb of
liis trade at night, and who was afterwards tried and condemned to death
for the offence.
Among the other evil effects produced by the absurd proceedings of the
ghost, it appears that one poor woman in particular, who was far ad-
vanced in her pregnancy of a second child, was so much sliocked on
seeing him, that she took to her bed, and survived only two days. She
had been crossing near the churchyard about ten o'clock at niolit, when
she beheld something, as she described, rise from the tomb-stones. The
figure was very tall, and very white. She attempted to run, but the
ghost soon overtook her, and, pressing her in his arms, she fainted, and
fell to the ground. In this situation ^;he remained some hours, till disco-
vered by sonit neighbours, who kindly led her home, when she took to her
bed, from which she never rose.
The ghost had so much alarmed a waggoner, belonging to Mr. Russel,
driving a team of eight horses, and which had sixteen passengers at the
time, that the driver took to his heels, and left the waggon and horses so
precipitately, that the whole were greatly endangered.
Francis Smith, the subject of this sketch, doubtless incensed at the
unknown person who was in the habit of assuming this supernatural cha-
racter, and thus frightening the superstitious inhabitants of the village,
rashly determined on watching foi', and shooting the ghost ; when unfor-
tunately he shot a poor man, named Thomas JNIilwood, a bricklaver, who
was in a wdiite dress, the usual habiliment of his occupation. This rash
act having been judged wilful murder by the coroner's inquest, Smith was
committed to jail, and took his trial at the ensuing sessions at the Old
Bailey, on the 13th January.
The evidence adduced was, that the unfortunate deceased had quitted
the residence of his father and mother only five minutes before he was
killed ; and that, as he was passing along Black Lion-lane, the prisoner
saw hirn and called out, " Damn you, who are you ? I'll shoot you, if
you don't speak." No answer was returned, and the prisoner then fired
and the contents of his gun struck the deceased on the jaw, and he fell
down dead. The prisoner immediately went in search of assistance, but
it was found to be too late, and he then surrendered himself into custody.
It afterwards proved that he had agreed with a watchman to go in search
of the ghost ; and that his only object Avas to rid the neighbourhood of
the visitor, who had occasioned so much mischievous alarm.
The defence set up was that no bad design actuated the prisoner in his
attack upon the supposed spirit, and many witnesses were called, who
proved the alarm which had bt^n occasioned by the visits of a prcttria-
tural being.
400 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
Tlie Lord Chief Baron, ^Mr. Justice Rooke, and Mr. Justice Lawrence,
wlio were on tlie Bencli, severally expressed their opinion, that the case
proved amounted to murder ; and that if a man killed another by design,
without authority, but from a sup})osition that he ought to be killed, the
oftence amounted to murder. The Jury attempted to bring in a verdict of
manslaugliter only, but the opinion of the learned Judges being repealed
they returned a general verdict of guilty, and recommended the prisoner to
mercy.
The Recorder then passed sentence of death on the prisoner in the usual
form ; which was, that he should be executed on the following Monday,
and his body given to the surgeons to be dissected.
The prisoner, who was dressed in a suit of black clothes, was twenty-
nine years of age. a short but well-made man, with dark hair and eye-
brows ; and the pallid hue of his countenance, during the whole trial,
together with all the signs of contrition which he exhibited, commanded the
sym])athy of every spectator.
The case excited great interest, and the Court and its environs were
crowded during the trial, by persons anxious to learn his fate.
The Lord Chief Baron having told the jury, after they had given their
verdict, that he would immediately report the case to his jMajesty, was so
speedy in this humane office, that a respite during pleasure was sent to the
Old Bailey before seven o'clock, and on the twenty-fifth, the prisoner
received a pardon on condition of his being imprisoned during one
year.
The ghost appears to have taken alarm at the consequences of his
absurd trifling with the feelings of his fellow subjects, and he was not again
seen.
We cannot dismiss this subject without referring to other cases of sup-
posed ghosts, which in their time attracted no inconsiderable portion of
public attention, and excited no small degree of alarm. The most fiimous
of these was known by the name of the " Cock Lane Ghost," and the cir-
cumstances connected with the case are so curious, and aftbrd so fair a spe-
cimen of the easy credulity even of well-informed and otherwise sensible
people, that we feel little hesitation in jilacing an account of them before
our readers.
The Cock Lane Ghost kept London in a state of commotion for no short
time, and was the universal theme of conversation among the learned and
the illiterate, and in every circle of society, " from the prince to the pea-
sant." It appears that at the commencement of the year 1760, there re-
sided in Cuck Lane, near West Smithfield, in the house of one Parsons, the
parish clerk of St. Sepulchre's, a stockbroker, named Kent. The wife of
this gentleman had died in child-bed during the previous year; and his
sister-in-law, Miss Fanny, had arrived from Norfolk to keep his house for
him. They soon conceived a mutual affection, and each of them made a
will in the other's favour. They lived some months in the house of Par-
sons, who, being a needy man, borrowed money of his lodger. Some dif-
ferences arose betwixt them, and Mr. Kent left the house, and Instituted
legal proceedings against the parish clerk for the recovery of his money.
While this matter was yet jiending, Miss Fanny was suddenly taken ill
of the small-pox, and, notwithstanding every care and attention, she died
in a few days, and was buried in a vault under Clerkenwell church. Par-
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 401
8ons now began to hint that the poor lady had come unfairly by her death,
and tliat ]Mr. Kent was accessory to it, from his too great eagerness to
enter into possession of *.he property she had bequeathed him. Nothing
furtlier was said for nearly two years ; but it would appear that Parsons
was of so revengeful a cliaracter, that he had never forgotten or forgiven
his differences with Mr. Kent, and the indignity of having been sued for
the burrowed money. The strong passions of pride and avarice were
silentlv at work during all that interval, hatching schemes of revenge, but
dismissing them one after the other as impracticable, until, at last, a no-
table one suET'iested itself. About the beginning of the year 1762, the alarm
was spread over all the neighbourhood of Cock Lane, that the house of
Parsons was liaunted by the ghost of poor Fanny, and that the daughter of
Parsons, a girl about twelve years of age, had several times seen and con-
versed with the spirit, who had, moreover, informed her, that she had not
died of the small-pox, as was currently reported, but of poison, adminis
tered by Mr, Kent. Parsons, who originated, took good care to counte-
nance these reports ; and, in answer to numerous inquiries, said his house
was every night, and had been for two years — in fact ever since the death
of Fanny, troubled by a loud knocking at the doors and in the walls.
Having thus prepared the ignorant and credulous neighbours to believe or
exaggerate for themselves what he had told them, he sent for a gentleman
of a higher class in life, to come and witness these extraordinar\- occur-
rences. The gentleman came accordingly, and found tlie daughter of Par-
sons, to whom the spirit alone appeared, and whom alone it answered, in
bed, trembling violently, having just seen the ghost, and been again in-
formed that she had died from poison. A loud knocking was also heard
from every part of the chamber, which so mystified the not very clear un-
derstanding of the visiter, that he departed, afraid to doubt and ashamed
to believe, but with a promise to bring the clergyman of the parish and se-
veral other gentlemen on the following day, to report upon the mystery.
On the following night he returned, bringing with him three clergymen,
and about twenty other persons, including two negroes, when, upon a con-
sultation with Parsons, they resolved to sit up the whole night, and await
the ghost's arrival. It was then explained by Parsons, that although the
ghost would never render itself visible to anybody but his daughter, it had
no objection to answer the questions that might be put to it by any person
present, and that it expressed an afiarmation by one knock, a negative by
two, and its displeasure by a kind of scratching. The child was then put
into bed along with her sister, and the clergymen examined the bed and bed-
clothes to satisfy themselves that no trick was played, by knocking upon
any substance concealed among the clothes, as, on the previous night, the
bed was observed to shake violently.
After some hours, during which they all waited with exemplary patience,
the mysterious knocking was heard in the wall, and the child declared that
she saw the ghost of poor Fanny. The following questions were then
gravely put by tlie clergyman, through the medium of one IMary Frazer,
the servant of Parsons, and to whom it was said the deceased lady had
been much attached. The answers were in the usual fashion, by a knock
or knocks: —
" Do you make this disturbance on account of the ill usage you received
from JMr. Kentr'— " Yes."
VOL. I. 3 P
402 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
" Were you broiiglit to an untimely end by poison?'' — " Yes."
" How was tlie poison administered, in beer or in purl?" — " In purl."
" How long was that before your death ? " — " About three hours."
" Can your former servant, Carrots, give any information about the
poison?" — " Yes."
" Are you Kent's wife's sister?" — " Yes."
" Were you married to Kent after your sister's death?" — " No."
" Was anybody else, besides Kent, concerned in your murder?" —
*'No."
" Can you, if you like, appear visibly to any one?" — " Yes."
« Will you do so?"—" Yes."
" Can you go out of this house?" — " Yes."
" Is it your intention to follow this child about everywhere?" — ■
" Yes."
"■ Are you pleased in being asked these questions?" — " Yes."
" Does it ease your troubled soul?" — ^ Yes."
[^Here there was heard a mysterious noise, which some wiseacre present
compared to the fluttering of wings.]
" How long before your death did you tell your servant. Carrots, that
you were poisoned? — An hour?" — " Yes."
QCarrots, who was present, was appealed to; but she stated positively
that such was not the fact, as the deceased was quite speechless an hour
before her death. This shook the faith of some of the spectators, but the
examination was allowed to continue.]
" How long did Carrots live with you?" — " Three or four days."
QCarrots was again appealed to. and said that this was true.]
'" If Mr. Kent is arrested for this murder, will he confess?" — " Yes."
" Would your soul be at rest if he were hanged for it?" — " Yes."
" Will he be hanged for it?"—" Yes."
" How long a time first?" — " Three years."
" How many clergymen are there in this room?" — " Three.''
" How many negroes?" — " Two."
" Is this watch (held up by one of the clergymen) white?" — " No."
■' Is it yellow?" — " No."
"Is it blue?"—" No."
-<Is it black?"—" Yes."
I^The watch was in a black shagreen case.]
" At what time this morning will you take your departure?"
The answer to this question was four knocks, very distinctly heard by
every person present; and accordingly, at four oclock precisely, the ghost
took its departure to the Wheatsiieaf public-house, close by, where it
frightened mine host and his lady almost out of their wits by knocking
in tlie ceiling right above their bed.
The rumour of these occurrences very soon spread over London, and
every day Cock-lane was rendered impassable by the crowds of people
who assembled around the house of the parish clerk, in expectation of
either seeing the ghost or of hearing the mysterious knocks. It was at
last found necessary, so clamorous were they for admission within the
haunted precincts, to admit those only who would pay a certain fee;
an arrangement which was very convenient to the needy and money-
loving Mr. Parsons. Indeed, things had taken a turn greatly to h's satis-
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 403
faction ; he not only had his revenge, but he made a profit out of it. The
ghost, in consequence, played its antics every night, to the great amuse-
ment of many hundreds of people, and the great perplexity of a still
greater number.
• Unhappily, however, for the parish clerk, the ghost was induced to
make some promises which were the means of utterly destroying its repu-
tation. It promised, in answer to the questions of the Reverend Mr.
Aldritch of Clerkenwell, that it would not only follow the little Miss
Parsons wherever she went, but would also attend him, or any other gen-
tleman, into the vault under St. John's church, where the body of the
murdered woman was deposited, and would there give notice of its pre-
sence by a distinct knock upon the coffin. As a preliminary, the girl
was conveyed to the house of Mr. Aldritch near the church, where a
large party of ladies and gentlemen, eminent for their acquirements, their
rank, or their wealth, had assembled. About ten o'clock on the night of
the 1st of February, the girl, having been brought from Cock-lane in a
coach, was put to bed by several ladies in the house of Mr. Aldritch, a
strict examination having been previously made that nothing was hidden
in the bedclothes. While tiie gentlemen, in an adjoining chamber, were
deliberating whether they should proceed in a body to the vault, they
were summoned into tlie bedroom by the ladies, who affirmed, in great
alarm, that the ghost was come, and that they heard the knocks and
scratches. The gentlemen entered accordingly, with a determination to
suffijr no deception. The little girl, on being asked whether she saw the
ghost, replied, " No ; but she felt it on her back like a mouse." She was
then required to put her hands out of bed, and they being held by some
of the ladies, the spirit was summoned in the usual manner to answer, if
it were in the room. The question was several times put with great so-
lemnity; but the customary knock was not heard in reply in the walls,
neither was there any scratching. The ghost was then asked to render
itself visible, but it did not choose to grant the request. It was next so-
licited to give some token of its presence by a sound of any sort, or by
touching the hand or cheek of any lady or gentleman in the room ; but
even with this request the ghost would not comply.
There was now a considerable pause, and one of the clergymen went
down-stairs to interrogate the father of the girl, who was waiting the
result of the experiment. He positively denied that there was any decep-
tion, and even went so far as to say that he himself, upon one occasion,
had seen and conversed with the awful ghost. This having been commu-
nicated to the company, it was unanimously resolved to give the ghost
another trial ; and the clergyman called out in a loud voice to the supposed
spirit that the gentleman to whom it had promised to appear in the vault
was about to repair to that place, where he claimed the fulfilment of its
promise. At one hour after midnight they all proceeded to the church,
and the gentleman in question, with another, entered the vault alone,
and took up their position alongside of the coffin of poor Fanny. The
ghost was then summoned to appear, but it appeared not; it was
summoned to knock, but it knocked not ; it was summoned to scratch,
liut it scratched not ; and the two retired from the vault, with the
firm belief that the whole business was a deception practised by Parsons
and his daughter. There were others, however, who did not wish to jump
404 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
eo hastily to a conclusion, and who suggested tliat they v/ere, perhaps,
trifling witli this awful and siipernatural being, which, being offended vHth
them for their presumption, would not condescend to answer them. Again,
after a serious consultation, it was agreed on all hands that, if the ghost
answered anybody at all, it would answer Mr. Kent, the supposed
murderer ; and he was accordingly requested to go down into the vault.
He went with several others, and summoned the ghost to answer whether
he had indeed poisoned her. There being no answer, the question was put
by Mr. Aldritch, who conjured it, if it were indeed a spirit, to end their
doubts — make a sign of its presence, and point out the guilty person.
There being still no answer for the space of half an hour, during which
time all these boobies waited with the most praiseworthy perseverance, they
returned to the house of Mr. Aldritch, and ordered the girl to get up and
dress herself. She was sti'ictly examined, but persisted in her statement
that she used no deception, and that the ghost had really appeared to her.
So many persons had, by their openly expressed belief of the reality of
the visitation, identified themselves with it, that Parsons and his family
were far from being the only persons interested in the continuance of the
delusion. The result of the experiment convinced most people ; but these
were not to be convinced by any evidence, however positive, and they
therefore spread about the rumour, that the ghost had not appeared in tlie
vault, because Mr. Kent had taken care beforehand to have the coffin
removed. That gentleman, whose position was a very painful one, imme-
diately procured competent witnesses, in whose presence the vault was
entered, and tlie coffin of poor Fanny opened. Their deposition was then
published ; and j\[r. Kent indicted Parsons and his wife, his daughter,
Mary Frazer the servant, the Rev. Mr. Moor, and a tradesman, two of
the most prominent patrons of the deception, for a conspiracy. The trial
came on in the Court of King's Bench, on the 10th of July, before Lord
Chief-Justice Mansfield, when, after an investigation which lasted twelve
hours, the whole of the conspirators were found guilty. The Rev. i\Ir.
Moor and his friend were severely reprimanded in open court, and recom-
mended to make some pecuniary compensation to the prosecutor for the
aspersions they had been instrumental in throwing upon his character.
Parsons was sentenced to stand three times in the pillory, and to be impri-
soned for two years : his wife to one year's, and his servant to six months'
imprisonment in the Bridewell. A printer, who had been employed by
tliem to publish an account of the proceedings for their profit, was also
fined fifty pounds, and discharged.
The precise manner in which the deception was carried on has never been
explained. The knocking in the wall appears to have been the work of
Parsons' wife, while the scratching part of the business was left to the
little girl. That any contrivance so clumsy could have deceived anybody,
cannot fail to excite our wonder. But thus it always is. If two or three
persons can only be found to take the lead in any absurdity, however
great, there is sure to be plenty of imitators. Like sheep in a field, if one
clears the stile, the rest will follow.
About ten years afterwards, London was again alarmed by the story of
a haunted house. Stock well, near Vauxhall, the scene of the antics of
this new ghost, became almost as celebrated in the annals of superstition
as Cock Lane. Mrs. Golding, an elderly lady, who resided alone with
THE NEW r-EWGATE CALENDAR. 405
Iier servant, Anne Robinson, was sorely surprised on the evening of
Iwelftli-day, 1772, to observe a most extraordinary commotion among her
crockery. Cups and saucers rattled down tlie chimney — pots and pans
were whirled down stairs, or through the windows ; and hams, cheeses,
and loaves of bread disported themselves upon tlie floor as if the devil
were in them. This, at least, was the conclusion tliat Mrs. Golding came
to ; and beino; greatly alarmed, she invited some of her neiglibours to stay
witli her, and protect her from the evil one. Their presence, however,
did not put a stop to the insurrection of china, and every room in the
house was in a short time strewed with the fragments. The chairs and
tables joined, at last, in the tumult, and things looked altogether so serious
and inexplicable, that the neighbours, dreading that the house itself would
next be seized with a fit of motion, and tumble about their ears, left
poor Mrs. Golding to bear the brunt of it by herself. The ghost in this
case was sohmnly remonstrated with, and urged to take its departure ;
but the demolition continuing as great as before, Mrs. Golding finally
made up her mind to quit the house altogether. She took refuge
with Anne Robinson in the house of a neighbour ; but his glass and
crockery being immediately subjected to the same persecution, he was
reluctantly compelled to give her notice to quit. The old lady, thus forced
back to her own house, endured the disturbance for some days longer,
when suspecting that Anne Robinson was the cause of all the mischief,
she dismissed her from her service. The extraordinary appearances inmie-
di.itely ceased, and were never afterwards renewed ; a fact which is of itself
sutticient to point out the real disturber. A long time afterwards, Anne
Robinson confessed the whole matter to the Rev. Mr. Brayfield. This
gentleman confided the story to Mr. Hone, who has published an expla-
nation of the mystery. Anne, it appears, was anxious to have a clear
house, to carry on an intrigue with her lover, and resorted to this trick to
effect her purpose. She placed the china on the shelves in such a manner
that it fell on the slightest motion, and attached horse -hairs to other
articles, so that she could jerk them down from an adjoining room without
being perceived by any one. She was exceedingly dexterous at this sort
of work, and would have proved a formidable rival to many a juggler by
profession.
In later days, the alarming vagaries of " Swing," and " Spring-heeled
Jack," have occasioned scarcely less alarm. Their claims to supernatural
powers have not been supported by such plausible evidence as those of any
of the ghosts which we have yet named, but their proceedings have been no
less troublesome and mischievous to the well-disposed of the subjects
of this realm.
One or two anecdotes with regard to haunted houses, though rather
beside the immediate object of this work, may yet prove interesting, as
illustrative of the general subject of ghosts, and the degree of belief to be
put in such supernatural visitors.
One of the best stories which we recollect to h.-vve heard of a haunted
house, is that which is related of the Royal Palace at Woodstock, in the
year 1649, when the commissioners sent from London by the Long Parlia-
ment to take possession of it, and effiice all the emblems of royalty about
it, were fairly driven out by their fear of the devil, and the annoyances they
suffered from a roguish cavalier, who played the imp to admiration. The
405 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
commissioners, dreading at tliat time no devil, arrived at Woodstock on
the 13th of October 1649. They took up tlieir lodgings in the late King's
apartments — turned the beautiful bed-rooms and withdrawing-rooms into
kitchens and sculleries — the council-hall into a brewhouse. and made the
dining-room a place to keep firewood in. They pulled down all the insig-
nia of royal state, and treated with the utmost indignity everything that
recalled to their memory the name or the majesty of Charles Stuart.
One Giles Sharp accompanied them in the capacity of clerk, and seconded
their efforts apparently with the greatest zeal. He aided them to uproot a
noble old tree, merely because it was called the King's Oak, and tossed the
fraorments into the diningr-room to make cheerful fires for the commis-
sioners. During the first two days they heard some strange noises about
the house, but they paid no great attention to them. On the third, how-
ever, they began to suspect they had got into bad company ; for they
neard, as they thought, a supernatural dog under their bed, which gnawed
their bedclothes. On the next day the chairs and tables began to dance,
apparently of their own accord. On the fifth day, something came into
the bedchamber and walked up and down, and fetching the warming-
pan out of the withdrawing-room, made so much noise with it that they
tliought five church-bells were ringing in their ears. On the sixth day,
the plates and dishes were thrown up and down the dining-room. On
the seventh, they penetrated into the bed-room in company with several
logs of wood, and usurped the soft pillows intended for the commissioners.
On the eighth and ninth nights, there was a cessation of hostilities ; but
on the tenth the bricks in the chimneys became locomotive, and rattled and
danced about the floors, and round the heads of the commissioners all the
niffht long. On the eleventh, the demon ran away with their breeches ;
and on the twelfth filled their beds so full of pewter -platters that they could
not get into them. On the thirteenth night, the glass became unaccount-
ably seized with a fit of cracking, and fell into shivers in all parts of the
house. On the fourteenth, there was a noise as if forty pieces of artillery
had been fired off, and a shower of pebble- stones, which so alarmed the
commissioners, that, " struck with great horror, they cried out to one
another for help."
They first of all tried the efficacy of prayers to drive away the evil
spirits ; but these proving unavailing, they began seriously to reflect
whether it would not be much better to leave the place altogether to the
devil that inhabited it. They ultimately resolved, however, to try it a
little longer ; and having craved forgiveness of all their sins, betook them-
selves to bed. That night they slept in tolerable comfort, but it was-
merely a trick of their tormentor to lull them into false security. When,
on the succeeding night, they heard no noises, they began to flatter them-
selves that the devil was driven out, and prepared accordingly to take up
their quarters for the whole winter in the palace. These symptoms on
their part became the signal for renewed uproar among the fiends. On the
1st of November, they heard something walking with a slow and solemn
pace up and down the withdrawing-room, and immediately afterwards a
shower of stones, bricks, mortar, and broken glass pelted about their ears.
On the 2nd the steps were again heard in the withdrawing-room, sounding
to their fancy very much like the treading of an enormous bear, which
sontinued for about a quarter of an hour. This noise having ceased, a
..^-.j^Qrti^^-^:^
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 407
large wai'ming- pan was thrown violently upon the table, followed by a
number of stones, and the jawbone of a horse. Some of the boldest walked
valiantly into the withdrawiiig-room, armed with swords and pistols, but
could discover nothing. They were afraid that night to go to sleep, and
sat up, making fires in every room, and burning candles and lamps in great
abundance ; thinking that, as the fiends loved darkness, they would not
disturb a company surrounded with so much light. They were deceived,
however : buckets of water came down the chimneys and extinguished the
tires, and the candles were blown out, they knew not how. Some of the
servants who had betaken themselves to bed were drenched with putrid
ditch-water as they lay ; and arose in great fright, muttering incoherent
prayers, and exposing to the wondering eyes of the commissioners tlieir
linen all dripping with green moisture, and their knuckles red with the
blows they had at the same time received from some invisible tormentors.
While they were still speaking, there was a noise like the loudej-t thunder,
or the firing of a whole ])ark of artillery ; upon which they all fell down
upon their knees and implored the protection of the Almighty. One of
the commissioners then arose, the others still kneeling, and asked in a
courageous voice, and in the name of God, who was there, and what they
had done that they should be troubled in that manner. No answer was
returned, and the noises ceased for a while. At length, however, as the
commissioners said, " the devil came again, and brought with it seven
devils worse than itself." Being again in darkness, they lighted a candle
and placed it in the doorway that it might throw a light upon the two
chambers at once ; but it was suddenly blown out, and one commissioner
said that he had " seen the similitude of a horse's hoof striking the candle
and candlestick into the middle of the chamber, and afterwards making
three escapes on the snuff to put it out." Upon this, the same person was
so bold as to draw his sword ; but he asserted positively that he had
hardly withdrawn it from the scabbard before an invisible hand seized
hold of it and tugged with him for it, and prevailing, struck him so violent
a blow with the pommel that he was quite stunned. Then the noises
began again ; upon which, with one accord, they all retired into the
presence-chamber, where they passed the night, praying and singing
psalms.
They were by this time convinced that it was useless to struggle any
longer with the powers of evil, that seemed determined to make Wood-
stock their own. These things happened on the Saturday night ; and,
being repeated on the Sunday, they determined to leave the place imme-
diately, and return to London. By Tuesday morning early, all their pre-
parations were completed ; and shaking the dust off their feet, and devoting
Woodstock and all its inhabitants to the infernal gods, they finally took
their departure.*
Many years elapsed before the true cause of these disturbances was dis-
covered. It was ascertained, at the Restoration, that the whole was the
work of Giles Sharp, the trusty clerk of the commissioners. This man,
whose real name was Joseph Collins, was a concealed royalist, and had
passed his early life within the bowers of Woodstock ; so that he knew
every hole and corner of the place, and the numerous trap-doors and secret
* Dr. H. Move's Continuation of Glanvil's Collection of Relations in proof of Witcherat'U
408 TnE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
passages that abounded in the building. The commissioners, never sus-
pecting the true state of his opinions, but believing him to be revolutionary
to the back -bone, placed the utmost reliance upon him; a confidence which
he abused in the manner above detailed, to his own great amusement, and
that of the few cavaliers whom he let into the secret.
Quite as extraordinary and as cleverly managed was the trick played off
at Ted worth, in l6(il, at the house of Mr. Mompesson, and which is so
circumstantially narrated by the Rev. Joseph Glanvil, under the title of
"TheDemon of Tedworth," and appended, among other proofs of witchcraft,
to his noted work, called " Sadducismus Triumphatus." About the middle
of April, in the year above mentioned, ]\Ir. Mompesson, having returned
to his house at Tedworth, from a journey he had taken to London, was
informed by his wife that during his absence they had been trouliled with
the most extraordinary noises. Three nights afterwards he heard the noise
himself; and it appeared to him to be that of " a great knocking at his
doors, and on the outside of his walls." He immediately arose, dressed
himself, took down a pair of pistols, and walked valiantly forth to disco-
ver the disturber, under the impression that it must be a robber ; but, as
he went, the noise seemed to travel before or behind him ; and, when he
arrived at the door from which he thought it proceeded, he saw nothing,
but still heard " a strange hollow sound." He puzzled his brains for a
lonof time, and searched every comer of the house ; but, discovering nothing,
he went to bed again. He was no sooner snug under the clothes, than the
noise began again more furiously than ever, sounding very much like a
" thumping and drumming on the top of his house, and then by degrees
going off into the air."
These things continued for several nights, when it came to the recollec-
tion of Mr. Mompesson that, some time before, he had given orders for
the arrest and imprisonment of a wandering drummer, who went about the
country with a large drum, disturbing quiet people and soliciting alms,
and that he had detained the man's drum, and that, probably, the drum-
mer was a wizard, and had sent evil spirits to haunt his house, to be re-
venged of him. He became strengthened in his opinion every day, espe-
cially when the noises assumed, to his fancy, a resemblance to the beating
of a drum, " like that at the breaking up of a guard." ]Mrs. ^lompesson
beincr brought to bed, the devil, or the drummer, very kindly and consi-
derately refrained from making the usual riot ; but, as soon as slie reco-
vered strenrrth, began again, " in a ruder manner than before, following
and vexinci- the young children, and beating their bedsteads with so much
violence that every one expect d they would fall in pieces " For an hour
together, as the worthy Mr. ]\Iompesson repeatt d to his wondering neigh-
bours, this infernal drummer '• would beat ' Roundheads and Cuckolds,'
the •• Tat-too,' and several other points of war, as cleverly as any soldier."
Wlien this had lasted long enough, he changed his tactics, and scratched
with his iron talons under tlie ciiildren's bed. " On the 5ih of November,"
says the Rev. Joseph Glanvil, '• it made a mighty noise ; and a servant,
observino- two boards in the children's room seeming to move, he bid it
c'ive him one of them. Upon which the board came (nothing moving it,
tliat he saw) within a yard of him. The man added, ' Nay, let me have
it in mv hand ;' upon which the spirit, devil, or drummer, pushed it
towards him so close, that he might touch it. This," continues Glanvil,
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 409
*' was in the day-time, and was seen by a whole room-full of people. That
morninc it left a sulphurous smell behind it, which was very offensive. At
nii'ht tile minister, one Mr. Cragg, and several of the neighbours, came to
the house on a visit. Mr. Cragg went to prayers with tliem, kneeling at
the cliiklren's bedside, where it then became very troublesome and loud.
Durino- prayer-time, the spirit withdrew into the cock-loft, but returned
as soon as prayers were done ; and then, in sight of the company, the chairs
walked al)out the room of themselves, the children's shoes were hurled over
their heads, and every loose thing moved about the chamber. At the
same time, a bed-staff was thrown at the minister, which hit him on the
leg, but so favourably, that a lock of wool could not have fallen more
softly." On anotlier occasion, the blacksmith of the village, a fellow who
cared neither for ghost nor devil, slept with John the footman, that he also
might hear the disturbance, and be cured of his incredulity, wlun there
"• came a noise in the room, as if one had been shoeing a horse, and some-
what came, as it were, with a pair of pinchers," snipping and snapping at
the poor blacksmith's nose the greater part of the night. Next day it
came, panting like a dog out of breath ; upon which some woman present
took a bed-staff' to knock at it, " which was cauglit suddenly out of her
hand, and thrown away; and company coming up, the room was presently
tilled with a hloomy noisome smelly and was very hot, though witliout fire,
in a very sharp and severe winter. It continued in the bed, panting and
scratchino- for an hour and a half, and then went into the next room, where
it knocked a little, and seemed to rattle a chain."
The rumour of these wonderful occurrences soon spread all over the
country, and people from far and near flocked to the haunted house of
Tedworth, to believe or doubt, as their natures led them, but all filled
with intense curiosity. It appears, too, that the fame of these events
reached the royal ear, and that some gentlemen were sent by the King to
investigate the circumstances, and draw up a report rf what they saw or
heard. Whether the royal commissioners were more sensible men than
the neighbours of Mr. Mompesson, and required more clear and positive
evidence than they, or whether the powers with which they were armed
to punish anybody who might be found carrying on this deception fright-
ened the evil-doers, is not certain; but Glanvil himself confesses, that all
the time they were in the house the noises ceased, and nothing was heard
or seen. " However," says he, " as to the quiet of the house when the
courtiers were there, the intermission may have been accidental, or perhaps
tile demon was not willing to give so public a testimony of those transac-
tions which might possibly convince those who he had rather should con-
tinue in unbelief of his existence."
As soon as the royal commissioners took their departure, the infernal
drummer recommenced his antics, and hundreds of persons were daily
present to hear and wonder. ]\Ir. Mompesson's servant was so fortunate
as not only to hear, but to see this pertinacious demon ; for it came and
stood iit the foot of his bed. The exact shape and proportion of it he could
not discover ; but " he saw a great body, with two red anfi glaring eyes,
which, fur some time, were fixed steadily on him, and at length disap-
peareti " Innumerable were the antics it played. Once it purred like a
f ac ; beat the children's legs black and blue ; put a iono^ s])ike into Mr.
Mompesson's bed, and a knife into his mother's ; filled the porringers with
VOL. I. 3 G
4]0 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
ashes ; hid a Bible under the grate ; and turned the money black in pee-
pie's pockets. '■ One night," says Mr. Mompesson, " there were seven or
eight of tliese devils in the shape of men, who, as soon as a gun was fired,
would shuffle away into an arbour ;" a circumstance which might have
convinced j\lr. Mompesson of the mortal nature of liis persecutors, if he had
not been of the number of those worse than blind, who shut their eyes, and
refuse to see.
In the mean time, the drummer, the supposed cause of all the mischief,
passed his time in Gloucester gaol, whither he had been committed as a
rogue and a vagabond. Being visited one day by some person from the
neighboui-hood of Ted worth, he asked what was the news in "Wiltshire, and
whether people did not talk a great deal about a drumming in a gentle-
man's house there ? The visiter replied, tliat he heard of nothing else ;
upon which the drummer observed, '• I have done it ; I have tlius plagued
him ! and he shall never be quiet until he hath made me satisfaction for
takino- away my drum." No doubt the fellow, who seems to have been a
gipsy, spoke the truth, and that the gang of which he was a member knew
more about the noises at Mr. Mompesson's house than anybody else. Upon
these words, however, he was brought to trial at Salisbury for witchcraft ;
and, beino" found guilty, was sentenced to transportation ; a sentence wliich,
for its leniency, excited no little wonder in that age, when such an accusa-
tion, whether proved or not, generally insured the stake or the gibbet.
Glanvil says, that the noises ceased immediately the drummer was sent
beyond the seas : but that, somehow or other, he managed to return from
transportation, — " by raising storms and affrighting the seamen, it was
said ;" when the disturbances were forthwith renewed, and continued at
intervals for several years. It was believed by many at the time, tliat Mr.
Mompesson himself was privy to the whole matter, and permitted and
encouraged these tricks in his house for the sake of notoriety ; but it seems
more probable that the gipsies were the real delinquents, and that Mr.
Mompesson was as much alarmed and bewildered as his credulous neigli-
bours, whose excited imaginations conjured up no small portion of these
stories, —
" Whifh roll'd, and, as tliey roll'd, grew larger every hour."
Many instances of a similar kind, during the seventeenth century, might
be gleaned from Glanvil and other writers of that period ; but they do not
differ sufficiently from these to justify a detail of them.
ROBERT ASLETT,
CONDEMNED TO DEATH FOR EMBEZZLING PUBLIC PROPERTY.
Mr. Aslett had been in the employ of the Governor and Company of
the Bank of England for about twenty-five years, and had conducted him-
self faithfully and meritoriously until he was induced, unfortunately, to
speculate in the funds ; when, in dereliction of that duty and fidelity which
he owed to his employers, he subtracted immense sums from the property
entrusted to his care.
In the year 1799, having gone through the necessary and regular grada-
tions, he was appointed one of the cashiers. It was a part of the business
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 411
of the Bank to purchase exchequer bills, to supply the exigencies of go-
vernment ; and the purchases were entrusted to the care of 3[r. A. New-
land ; but on account of that gentleman's growing infirmities, he having
been fifty-eight years in the service of the Bank, the management was left
wholly under the care and direction of Mr. Aslett. The purchases were
made of jMr. Goldsmid, by the means of jVIr. Templeman, a broker. It
was usual to make out a bill in the name of the person from whom they
were made, which was delivered to Mr. Aslett, to examine and enter in
what is called the Bought-book, and he gave orders to the cashiers to
reimburse the broker. The bills were afterwards deposited in a strong
chest, kept in JMr. Newland's room ; and when they had increased in bulk
by subsequent purchases, they were selected by Mr. Aslett, who tied them
up in large bundles, and carried them to the parlour, that is to say, the
room in which the Directors held their meetings, accompanied by one of
the clerks, with the original book of entry, when the Directors in waiting
received the envelope, and deposited it in the strong iron chest, which had
three keys, and to which none but the Directors had access ; and from
which it could not be brought forth until the time of payment, unless by
consent of at least two of the Directors. Therefore it was not possible
for them to find their way into the hands of the public or the monied
market, unless embezzled for that purpose. On the 26th of February,
1803, Mr. Aslett, according to the practice, made up three envelopes of
exchequer bills, of 1000^. each bill ; the first containing bills to the amount
of 100,000^., the second L>00,000^., and the third 400,'OUOZ.; making in the
whole 700,000^. These were, or in fact ought to have been, carried into
the parlour, and were signed as being received by two of the Dii-ectors,
IMessrs. Paget and Smith ; but one of the bundles, namely, tliat contain-
ing the 200,000/. worth of bills, was withdrawn.
The confidence which the Governor and Company had placed in Mr.
Aslett had enabled him to conceal the transaction from the 26th of Febru-
ary to the 9th of April ; but on that day, in consequence of an applica-
tion made by Mr. Bish, the whole was discovered. On the 1 6th of March,
Mr, Aslett went to that gentleman, and requested he would purchase
for him 50,000/. Consols, to which request no objection was made,
provided he deposited the requisite securities. The fluctuation of the
market at that time was six per cent., and Aslett, in order to cover any
deficit, deposited with Mr. Bish three exchequer bills, Nos. 34], 1060,
and 2694, which he knew had been previously deposited in the Bank.
From some circumstances, and from his general knowledge of the whole of
the business of the funds, jNIr. Bish suspected all was not right, and he
accordingly went to the Bank, where an investigation took place, at
which Mr. B. Watson, one of the Directors, was present. ]\Ir. Newland
was sent for, and asked whether any of the exchequer bills could, by
possibility, get into the market again from the Bank ? To which he an-
swered in the negative, observing that they were a dormant security. The
same question was put to Mr. Aslett, and the same answer given by him.
It was found necessary to tell him that the bills in question, which could
be proved to have been in the Bank, had found their way into the money-
market ; and at the same time it was observed, that he had made pur-
chases, to a large amount, of stock, with the bills : this was acknowledged
by him ; but he said he had done so for a friend, named Hosier, residing
412 THR NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
at the west end of the town ; and he declared that they were not Bank
property, nor to be found in the Bought-book. The Directors, however,
were not satisfied on this point, and he was immediately secured. His
trial was postponed to July, as it occurred to those employed in the prose-
cution that the bills in question had been issued with an informality in
them, not having the signature of the Auditor of the Exchequer. They
were aware of the objections that might be taken, and Parliament not then
being sitting, it was thought advisable to postpone the trial, lest it might
create an alarm in the money-market. The fact was no sooner known,
than a bill was brought into Parliament for remedying those defects, and
to render the bills valid.
On Friday, July 8, 1804, Mr. Aslett's trial commenced. Mr. Garrow,
on the part of the prosecution, stated the facts above mentioned ; but when
about to call witnesses to give evidence, Mr. Erskine insisted that the
exchequer bills, which the prisoner stood charged with having stolen,
were not good bills till the act of parliament had made them so, and con-
sequently that they were pieces of waste paper when stolen. The Chief
Baron INIacdonald, Mr. Justice Rooke, and Mr. Justice LawTence con-
curred, that the present indictment could not be maintained ; and the jury
were accordingly desired to acquit the prisoner.
He was afterwards, however, tried on nine other indictments, the evi-
dence being the same, Mr. Garrow having applied to the Court to detain
him in custody, it being, he said, the intention of the Bank Directors to
issue a civil process against him for one hundred thousand pounds, and
upwards, the moneys paid for the bills which he had converted to his
own use.
Mr. Kirby at first hesitated to receive the prisoner, understanding he
v,as acquitted ; but was peremptorily desired by the Court to take him
hack.
Mr. Aslett was dressed in a lightish brown coat, his hair bemg full pow-
derf'd. He appeared quite collected, but held doAvn his head, never once
lookinw up, except when the application was made to keep him in custody,
when he expressed symptoms of great surprise, and looked veiy steadfastly
at the Court.
On Saturday, Septemer 17, Mr. Aslett was again brought to the bar of
the Old Bailey, before Baron Chambre and Mr. Justice Le Blanc. The
prisoner was attended by four or five gentlemen, who continued in the
Dock during the whole time of the trial.
Three indictments were read, with two counts in each, charging the
prisoner with secreting and embezzling three notes. The first indictment
was, for that he, being an officer or servant of the Governor and Com-
pany of the Bank of England, had secreted and embezzled a certain piece
of paper, partly written, and partly printed, being No. 835, purporting to
be of the value of live hundred pounds; the second, 2694, for one thou-
sand pounds ; and the third. No. 6061, for one thousand pounds. One
count in each stated them as securities, and the other as effects belong-
ing to the said Governor and Company. There were other counts, di-
versifying the statement of the property in other forms, such as were
deemed to come within the law.
Mr. Garrow stated the case at considerable length to the jury. There
was one point, to which he called particular attention, and that was that
THK NEW NKWGATE CAIiKNDAR. 413
the prisoner had been tried before, and acquitted of tlie offence of pur
loinino- exchequer bills to an immense amount ; as it was then proved to
the satisfaction of the learned judges on the bench, for whom ne enter-
tained the highest respect, that they were not actually such as might in
law be termed exchequer bills, in consequence of their not having been
aifned as the act directs. The present indictments, however, stated them
as papers purporting to be exchequer bills, which they evidently were
on the face of them, and subdivided the charge, by stating them one time
as securities, and at another time as effects belonging to the Company.
This he had no doubt that the jury would be convinced of upon hear-
ing them read ; and it was an important duty which the Bank owed
to the public, that they should not suffer so great a delinquent to escape
the justice of the country, in consequence of any want of exertion on
their part.
jMr. Erskine, in behalf of the prisoner, delivered a most animated address
to the jury. He stated, that the former indictments against the gentleman
at the bar had been objected to on grounds which were approved of
by the learned judges who then sat upon the bench. — lie was now
brought up again to be tried for exactly the same offence, though dif-
ferently stated ; and he thought that the present proceeding was liable to
the same objections w^hich were then admitted to be valid by the bench ;
but he should oppose it on much stronger grounds. He then objected to
the legality of Mr. Jenning's signature, in the place of that of Lord Gren-
ville, as Auditor of the Exchequer. That the same illegality in a criminal
sense existed with respect to all bills issued at that time from the Exche-
quer, was manifest from the circumstance of the legislature having
found it necessary to pass an act expressly for the purpose of making
them legal in a civil view ; and that act had a most humane proviso,
which declared, in plain terms, that the act was to be considei'ed to
make the exchequer bills issued at that time valid only in a civil view, and
was not to have any retrospective view to any criminal offence committed
before the passing of that act. The learned gentleman stated, that as
securities, they were notliing in law, for a person, at the time of their
being passed, could not recover at law. As to the idea of calling them
effects, he considered that, though the legislature had thought proper to
pass an act for the protection of that company above all others, by passing
what is generally termed the Bank Act, in consequence of the immense
magnitude of that concern, yet effects must obviously mean the same as
in a case of petty larceny would be considered as effects, that is something
intrinsically valuable in themselves, without taking in or mixing in the
mind the idea of their professed or avowed value. If that was not tlie
case, a clerk who took away a loose half sheet of paper lying about the
office, or a pen that was worn to the stump, came within the limits of the
act, and would be liable to a prosecution for felony. If he did not know
the higldy respectable character which that Company supported, and the
very great ability by which they were counselled, he should be induced to
say that the prosecution of the gentleman at the bar a second time, for
exactly the same offence of which he had been before acquitted by law,
was vexatious ; and he should declare, not only as a lawyer, but as a man,
that thev were rather inclined to be severe towards the ]irisoner, than that
they should be thought in the least to relax from their duty, or from an
U4 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
idea of justice to the public. The articks stated in the indictments must
either be really and londjide exchequer bills, or else they were no securi-
ties; they were no effects in law: they were no more than pieces of waste
paper, for the embezzlement of which he had never known a prosecution
to be sustiiined at law. The generosity of government, or the justice of
the country, could not at that time pay a single farthing {or them ; the
strings of the national purse were only to be drawn by the consent of
the legislature, and at that time there was no such consent obtained ;
the articles in the indictment were at that time nothing but so many pieces
of waste, printed, and written paper, which had not been called into
existence as anything of valuable property, as any effects belonging to the
Bank which had obtained the sanction of Parliament ; they had not been
animated by the breath of the legislature. The learned gentleman then
quoted several cases from the Reports, showing that chattels or effects must
be something valuable intrinsically in themselves ; and said that it was
his firm belief that the learned judges at present on the bench would
deliver an opinion similar in effect to that which had already been deli-
vered by the learned judges sitting on that bench at the time of INIr. Aslett's
former trial : he believed that they would find themselves in the same
situation, and instruct the jury to find a verdict for the acquittal of that
gentleman without hearing any evidence upon the case ; as in his opinion
it was not such as could be supported in law.
Mr. Serjeant Best followed on the same side, and the Court determined
to reserve the point for consideration. Evidence was then given in proof
of the facts stated at the beginning of this article, and the jury returned
a verdict of Guilty.
Mr. Aslett betrayed neither a symptom of fear, nor levity, but seemed
to pay the greatest attention to everything that passed, and conducted
himself with a becoming firmness throughout the whole of the trial.
When the verdict was pronoimced, there was a great buz in the Court :
Mr. Aslett waited for about two minutes, then bowed to the Court, and
withdrew, accompanied by his friends.
On February 16, 1804, Mr. Aslett was brought to the bar to receive
his sentence, when Mr. Baron Hothan addressed him as follows : —
"• Robert Aslett, you were tried and convicted in this Court, in the
September sessions, 1803, for embezzling effects belonging to the Governor
and Company of the Bank of England, you being an ofl&cer and servant of
that Bank, and, as such, entrusted with their property. It was argued by
your counsel, that the bills were not valid or legal bills, having been signed
by a person not properly authorised by Lord Grenville, though they had
been issued as good, and paid as such. On this indictment you have been
lawfully convicted by a jury of your countrymen ; but judgment has been
suspended till the opinion of the twelve judges of England was taken on
this important case, in order to ascertain wliether these bills were good,
according to the statute 13 Geo. II. Eleven of these judges were of
opinion that some of the objections, so ably argued by your counsel, should
be sustained ; they liave since held various conferences, which produced
various different opinions ; and it is now my duty to communicate to you
the result of their investigation. Several points were urged in your favour,
upon all of which, however except one, the Judges have given their deci-
sion against you. The only material question for consideration was, whd"
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 415
tlier or not these bills fall witliin the meaning of the statute 15 Geo. II.,
and can be denominated effects according to that act. On this point,
indeed, the judges were not unanimous, but the majority arc of opinion
that they are effects and securities within the true meaning of the act.
The great object of the legislature was to add security and administer pro
tection to tlie Bank of England. The immense national concerns with
which it was and still is entrusted, called upon the legislature for particular
provisions in its favour. The principles of legislation must now be
applied to the object under contemplation ; and the view we take of any
code of laws must be moi-e comprehensive when it concerns so materially
such a large incorporated body, than when it only relates to private indi-
viduals. Considering this law then in the enlarged and liberal view on
which it was framed by tlie legislature (at the same time that all the
judges disclaim any wish to strain any part of it where it is so penal,) the
recollection of the enormous weight of exchequer bills, in which the public
were so deeply and materially concerned, cannot fail to occur to every
mind. That these bills had become the fair and valuable property of the
Bank was allowed on all hands ; but still it was argued that they were not
such securities as fell within the true meaning of the Act of Parliament,
because they were not of any positive or intrinsic value. Now, whatever
shall be deposited with the Bank, was expressly guarded by the words of
the act ; and although the bills in question be of no descriptive legal value,
yet they carry about them such a consequence at least as may make their
preservation of the utmost importance to the Bank. In that view, there-
fore, they surely have their value. They are at least valuable papers,
whatever they may be called, and the holders of them have them as such,
having paid for them the value which they respectively import. They are
therefore to be included in the true meaning of the word securities, which
may be in the end available to any person who may be possessed of them.
The conviction was therefore determined to be good, and on the follow-
ing Monday, 20th February, 1804, this unfortunate man received sentence
of death. This punishment was, however, subsequently commuted to
transportation.
SAMUEL WILD MITCHELL.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
This wretched man was hanged for the murder of his daughter, Sarah
Mitchell, a girl about twelve years of age. He was a spinner livino- in
Spitalfields, and he had brought the girl up as an apprentice to his trade.
It would appear that frequent disputes took place between him and his
wife, in consequence of wliich he became subject to frequent violent bursts
of passion. It was on the occasion of his having excited himself to a de-
gree of rage amounting to madness, that he committed the crime for which
he was hanged. The girl was sitting at her work, when her father came
into the room, and suddenly attacking her, cut her throat through the
windpipe with a razor, which he held in his hand. He immediately after-
wards ran from the house, but was apprehended subsequently on the same
evening, when he made a full confession of his crime. On his trial, which
416 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
took place at the Old Bailey on the 11th of January, 1805, he presented
a miserable aspect. Almost bereft of reason by the dreadful deed which
he had committed, he seemed for some time unconscious of what was
passing around him. His hair was grey, and his head was covered with
an old miserable nightcap.
Evidence as to the fact of the murder was adduced, and the prisoner's
confession was also read. He said — " I had a daughter named Sally, and
my wife had a daughter named Elizabeth, who at one time did live with
me, but whom I afterwards took to my apartment, where I instructed her
in tlie art of weaving, and we lived all together : this said daughter of my
wife's caused some uneasiness, as I thouglit ; and I thought my wife was
more indulgent of her faults, and favoured her more than slie ought, which
Avas the reason of our separation on the 17th of December last ; my wife
also took with her Sarah Mitchell, whom I loved with the most ardent
aifection, which vexed me a great deal, as I saw there would be a conti-
nual dispute. I could not bear the little girl coming to see me, as
coming on a visit. I resolved that neither my wife nor me should possess
her. I seized the moment of the mother going away ; the child was sit-
ting by the fire winding quills. I took the razor from the drawer ; my
affection made me almost lay it down again, but my resolution overcame
that. I turned round, and cut her throat. I was too resolute to make a
faint attempt ; the child was dead in a moment ; she neither made noise
nor resistance. When I had done the deed, tlie child fell. As I went out,
I saw her blood ; then I ran down stairs. After this act was done to my
child, Sarah Mitchell, I went to a man named Bell, where I had lived, and
left word for him to run and secure my master's work ; then I went to Mr.
Dellafour, and my friends at Wapping."
The prisoner, on his being called on for his defence, at once admitted
that he was ouijty of the crime imputed to him, but declared that he was
led on to its commission by a mind which had been deranged by the fre-
quent quarrels which he had with his wife.
The jury having found him guilty, the prisoner w\as asked what he had
to say for himself, whj' sentence of death should not be passed according to
law ? He distinctly replied, " I have nothing to say."
The awful sentence, that he was to be hanged on the succeeding ]\Ion-
day, and his body afterwards dissected and anatomized, was immediately
pronounced by the recorder ; which the prisoner heard without any visible
emotion. The court was crowded in almost every part, and particularly
w-ith ladies ; and not only the women, but even the jury, the counsel, and
learly all present, were melted into tears. During the whole trial the
prisoner appeared calm, but not insensible. He was very attentive to the
evidence, and appeared frequently to utter a low ejaculation.
On the morning after his trial, this unhappy man expressed a desire to
see his wife, that they might exchange forgiveness. The day following
(Sunday) she came to visit him in Newgate, but was so ill that she was
obliged to be conveyed in a hackney-coach, supported between two friends.
As soon as the distressing interview was over, he applied himself devoutly
to prayer, in which he continued nearl}' the whole of the day. On that
day he was extremely solicitous to obtain Dr. Ford's promise to publish
to the world that he died in the faith of the Church of England ; as it
had been generally understood that he belonged to the sect denominated
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 417
Methodists. At half-past six o'clock on Monday morning Mitchell's
cell vvas unlocked, and the Ordinary attended him to the chapel to
prayers ; which being concluded, he returned to the Press-yard, and
there walked for some time, holding two friends by the arms ; meanwhile
his mind was occupied with his unhappy situation ; and he begged of all
around him to pray with him. The unhappy man blessed the memory of
his murdered child, and trusted the sacrifice he was about to make would,
in some degree, expiate his crime in heaven, which he did not despair
to see.
His last petition was to the sheriffs, to request that, after the surgeons
had practised upon his body, his mangled remains might be given to his
daughter, for burial ; which request the sheriffs promised should be com-
plied with.
The wretched being seemed to attend with much earnestness and fervoiir
to the clergyman, and he was seen to clasp his hands together the instant
the rope Avas fixed. After the drop fell he appeared to feel great pain, as
he swung round twice, which was occasioned by the violence of the con-
vulsive struggles he sustained.
He suffered before Newgate, January the 14th 1805, and, after hanging
the usual time, was taken to St. Bartholomew's hospital for dissection.
RICHARD HAYWOOD.
EXECUTED FOR ROBBERY.
The termination of the career of this criminal exhibited him to be a
man of the most depraved and diabolical disposition.
He was indicted for having stolen two pillows and two bolsters, value
10s., the property of Richard Crabtree, and also for cutting Benjamin
Chantrey with a certain sharp instrument, in order to prevent his ap-
prehension.
It appears that some suspicions being entertained of an intention to rob
Mr. Crabtree's house, which was left imoccvipied, although furnished.
Miss Jenkins the cousin of that gentleman, and a Mrs. Wilson, determined
to watch it, and they accordingly took their station in the house of a
Mr. Wilkinson, situated directly opposite to it, in Thayer-street, Man-
chester-square. They had not been long on the look-out, before they saw
two men enter it, having opened tlie door with a key. Mrs. Wilson, in
consequence, went and knocked at the door, on which the two men ran
out, and one running to the left made his escape, while the otiier (the
prisoner) made a blow at Mrs. Wilson, and ran to the right. He was
afterwards pursued by a Mr. Holford, and on Mr. Chantrey stepping out
from his own house to seize him, he struck him a violent blow on the
head with an iron crowbar. He was eventually secured, and it was then
found, that the articles mentioned in the indictment had been removed
ready to be carried off.
After conviction, the prisoner behaved with shocking depravity, seeming
to exult in his guilt, and regretting he had not done a deed more
deserving of death. It was his constant boast that he would, on the
Bcaffold, surpass the notorious Avershaw in evincing his contempt for life;
VOL. I. 3 u
418 THE MIW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
and he constantly endeavoured to instil into the mind of his fellow-sufferer
those diabolical principles which he had imbibed liimseif.
His fellow-sufferer was John Tennant, wlio had lived as footman with
Robert Shaw, Esq. a solicitor, in New Bridge-street, Blackfriars ; but,
inflated \\\t\\ the amhition of keeping a public-house, he quitted his service,
and obtained the command of a tap in Little Suffolk-street, Dirty-lane,
behind tlie King's Bench Prison. Finding his golden prospects in a
public-house, in a great measure, delusive, he determined on robbing
his late master, ]\Ir. Shaw ; and, being well acquainted with his liouse,
broke open his money-drawers, and stole to the amount of more than five
thousand pounds in cash, bank-notes, and other property. Witli such a
prize such a man could not long remain unsuspected, and he was soon
detected in passing some of the stolen notes. The relentless Haywood
corrupted the mind of Tennant, and, in the condemned cells, stimulated
him to follow his horrid example. Tliey uttered the most blasphemous
expressions, and sang lewd songs during the whole time they ought to
have been employed in making their peace with offended Heaven.
When the keeper went to warn them of their approaching execution,
they behaved in so riotous a manner, that it was necessary to secure them
witli irons to the floor. Haywood, who was supposed to have procured
a knife from his wife, while she was permitted to see him, rushed upon
the keeper, and would have stabbed him witli it if he had not left the cell.
They uttered the most horrid imprecations ; and, after declaring, in cant
terms, that they would die game^ threatened to murder the Ordinary if he
attempted to visit them. Their behaviour, in other respects, was so aban-
doned, that the necessary attendants were deterred from further interfe-
rence, and left them to the dreadful fate wliich awaited them.
"When the time for quitting the court-yard arrived, Haywood called to
a friend, who was present, to deliver him a bundle he had in his hand,
out of which he took an old jacket, and a pair of old shoes, and put them
on. " Thus," said he, " will I defeat the prophecies of my enemies : they
have often said I would die in my coat and shoes, and I am determined to
die in neither." Being told it was time to be conducted to the scaffold,
lie cheerfully attended the summons, having first eaten some bread and
cheese, and drunk a quantity of coffee. Before, however, he departed, he called
out in a loud voice to the prisoners, who were looking through the upper
windows at him, "Farewell, my lads ; I am just going oft': God bless
you." — " We are sorry for you," replied the prisoners. " I want none of
your pity," rejoined Haywood ; " keep your snivelling till it be your own
turn." Immediately on his arrival upon the scaffold, in a loud laugh, he
gave the mob three cheers, introducing each with a " Hip, ho !" While
the cord was preparing, he continued hallooing to the mob, '• How are
you ? — Well, here goes." It was found necessary, before the usual time, to
put the cap over his eyes, besides a silk handkerchief, by way of bandage,
that his attention miglit be entirely abstracted from the spectators.
At the suggestion of Mr. Iloldsvvorth, however, Tennant made some
alteration in his conduct. This officer, finding his advice attended to in
this instance, entreated him no longer to follow the evil counsel of Hay-
wood, but to employ the few moments he had left in a Cliristian-like
manner. Tennant shed tears, sliowcd some contrition, and suffered the
Ordinary to attend him to the scaffold. Dr. Ford continued in prayer
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 4I9
with liim ; and, though he did not join with, yet he listened to him
attentively. He came on the platform with great resolution, but did not
then follow the daring and abandoned example of his companion : he was
cleanly dressed, and observed a suitable propriety of conduct ; he shook
hands with Haywood ; and, just as the noose was placed round his neck,
he emphatically exclaimed, " Lord, have mercy upon me !" Haywood
uttered some words in reply, which were not perfectly understood,
but were supposed to be said to Tennant by way of reproach. He then
gave another halloo, and kicked off his shoes among the spectators, many
of whom were deeply affected at the obduracy of his conduct. Soon after-
wards the platform dropped. They suffered on the 30th of April 1805.
HENRY PERFECT.
TRANSPORTED FOR FRAUD.
Henry Perfect was a person who, by means of the most specious
pretences and ingenious frauds, succeeded in levying very large contribu-
tions on the public. Instances of fellows devoid of principle pursuing
similar plans of imposture have been but too frequent of late years, but the
system, which was for a long time so successful, of writing begging letters,
has been now almost entirely put an end to, by the praiseworthy exertions
of the officers of that very respectable institution the Mendicity Society,
the object of which is at once to relieve tlie necessitous, and to protect the
public from imposition.
The case of this person may be taken as a very fair instance of the
degree of ingenuity exercised by individuals resorting to similar artifices as
the means of gulling the humane.
Perfect was a man of respectable parentage, and of excellent abilities.
His father was a clergyman living in Leicestershire, and our hero, at the
completion of his education, entered the army as a lieutenant in the 69tli
regiment of foot. He was twice married, and received a handsome pro-
perty with each of his wives ; but their estates being held during life
only, upon the demise of his second helpmate he was thrown upon his
own resources. His commission had long since been disposed of, and he
determined to endeavour to procure contributions by writing letters to
persons of known charitable dispositions, setting forth fictitious details of
distress. In the course of his numerous impositions, he assumed the
various and imaginary characters of the Rev. Mr. Paul, the Rev. Daniel
Bennett, Mrs. Grant, Mrs. Smith, and others, but at last he was detected
in an attempt to procure money from the Earl of Clarendon, whom he
addressed in a letter signed " H. Grant."
He was indicted at the Middlesex sessions for this offence ; and his
trial, which came on at Hicks' Hall, on the 27th of October 1804, occupied
the whole day.
It then appeared that the Earl of Clarendon being at his seat at Wade's
Mill, Hertfordshire, in the previous month of July, he received a letter,
purporting to be from Mrs. Grant, which stated in substance : —
That the writer having heard from a lady, whose name she was not at
liberty to reveal, the most charming character of his lordship for kindness
420 THE MEW NEWGATE CALEMUAK.
and beni-volence, she was induced to lay before him a statement of her
distressed circumstances. The supposed lady then detailed her case, whicii
was, tliat she was a native of Jamaica, of affluent and respectable family:
that a young man, a Scotchman, and surgeon's mate to a man-of-war, was
introduced at her father's house, who so far ingratiated himself with her
father, that he seriously recommended him to her for her husband. She
did not like him, because he was proud, and for ever vaunting of his higli
family ; but as her father's will had always been a law, she acquiesced on
condition that he would live at Jamaica. They were accordingly married,
and her father gave him one thousand pounds. He, however, soon became
discontented with remaining at .Jamaica, and continually importuned her
to go with him to Scotland ; and as her friends joined in tl)e solicitation,
she consented. She had now been six months in England; but her hus-
band had always evaded going to Scotland, and had left her whenever she
spoke upon the subject. In short he had gamed, drunk, and committed
every excess ; and within the last six weeks he had died in a rapid decline,
leaving her a widow, with two children, and hourly expecting to be deli-
vered of a third. She was not twenty-three years of age, and never knew
want till now ; but she was left without a shilling to support herself and
miserable children: she owed for her husband's funeral, and the apothe-
cary's bill, for which she was afraid of being arrested. To avoid this she
was going to seek shelter with a poor widow in Essex ; and if his lordship
would write to her at the post-office at Harlow, she would, if brought to
bed in the meanwhile, get some safe person to go for the letter.
His lordship's answer evinced the benevolence of his heart. He expressed
his readiness to alleviate her distress, but justly observed that her tale
ought to be authenticated by something more than the recital of a perfect
stranger. He desired to know who the lady was who had recommended
the application to him, and assured the writer she need not conceal her,
for that he considered it was doing him a great kindness to aflFord him the
means of rendering service to the necessitous. On the 14th of July his
lord!^hip received a note nearly as follows : —
j\Irs. Smith, widow of Captain Smith, begged leave to inform Lord
Clarendon that Mrs. Grant was brought to bed. It was she who recom-
mended Mrs. Grant to Lord Clarendon : while her husband was living, she
had frequently been with him on the recruiting service in Hertfordshire,
where she had heard of the benevolent character of his lordship. She added,
that Captain Smith, when in Jamaica, had frequently visited i\Irs. Grant's
father, who was a person of great wealth ; that she had herself done more
than she could afiurd for an amiable and unfortunate young woman. She
had no doubt but that as soon as her letter should reach Jamaica, Mrs.
Grant's father would send her abundant relief ; but till then she might,
without the friendship of some individual, be totally lost.
In consequence ol this last note, his lordship returned an answer, and
enclosed a draft for five guineas, oftering at tlie same time to write to any
person at Harlow who might be of assistance to her, particularly to any
medical person. On .July the 2-'3rd the supposed Mrs. Grant wrote again to
his lordship, acknowledging the receipt of the five guineas, and stating that
she had the offer of a passage home : but she said that she wislied to see
his lordship, to return her grateful thanks for his kindness. At the same
time she was extremely delicate, lest their meeting shoi'W ^j misconstrutd
THli; NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 421
liy a malignant world, and entreated that it might take place a little
distance from town. Tlie answer to this letter she begged mio^ht be
addressed to A. B. C. at George's Coffee-house, to which place she would
send for it. His lordsliip at her request, wrote an answer, and appointed
the Bell Inn, at Kilburn. Before the arrival of the day of meeting,
however, his lordship received another letter from Mrs. Grant, statino- that
ever since she came to town, she had met nothing but trouble. Her last
child had died, and she was seized with a milk-fever ; that she had twelve
shillings left of his lordship's, and Mrs. Smith's bounty, when she came to
tov\Ti ; that she was afraid of coming further than Whitechapel, lest her
creditors might arrest her ; and she concluded with the request of the loan
of five pounds, to be inclosed in a note addressed to Mr. Paul, to be left at
the Saracen's Head Inn, Aldgate. His lordsliip, in reply to this note, sent
the money requested, and with great humanity condoled on her supposed
situation. He then proposed to take her into the country, where she
might live quiet, and free of expense, until she heard from her friends.
The next letter introduced another actor on the stage. It came from the
Rev. H. Paul. Mr. Paul, at the desire of Mrs. Grant, (then said to be
delirious,) acknowledged the receipt of- the five pounds, tie would write
again, and say anything JMrs. Grant might dictate in a lucid interval. He
begged his answer might be left at the Chapter Coffee-house. His lord-
ship accordingly wrote to the Rev. H. Paul, with particular inquiries after
the state of Mrs. Grant, and proposed to send the proper medical assist-
ance. The Rev. Mr. Paul replied to this letter, and stated the description
of Mrs. Grant's complaint, which was of a delicate nature. He then stated
the high notions of !Mrs. Grant, who would not condescend to see any
person from his lordship in her present wretched state; and added that she
thought her situation such, that it was not delicate to admit any one to see
her but tliose absolutely necessary. Mr. Paul therefore had promised, he said,
not to divulge her residence; but declared that in her lucid intervals, Mrs.
Grant expressed the utmost anxiety to be enabled to thank her benefactor.
This correspondence produced a meeting between the supposed Rev. H.
Paul and his lordship, which took place at the Bell Inn, at Kilburn, on
the 8th of August. The prisoner then introduced himself to his lordship
as the Rev. Henry Paul. They entered into conversation on the subject of
Mrs. Grant, when his lordship asked every question as to her situation,
with a view to alleviate it. Mr. Paul said he had not seen her distinctly,
for the curtains were closed round her ; but the opium had had an effect
which he had known it frequently to produce : it had given her eyes more
than usual brilliancy : with respect to her lodging, it was a very small
room. The woman who attended her seemed a good sort of a woman
enough, and she was also attended by a surgeon or apothecary. As Mr.
Paul seemed to be a man of respectability, his lordship asked him at what
seminary he had been brought up : the prisoner replied he had been edu-
cated at Westminster and Oxford, and had the living of St. Kitt's, in Ja-
maica, worth about 700/. per annum ; that he had property in Ireland,
and was going to America on private business. To his lordship's question
how he was so fortunate as to meet this young woman, he said it was by
au accident, that quite looked like a romance. — He was coming to town in
the Ongar stage, in which Avere a young woman, two children, and a lady,
all in mourniuff. He entered into conversation with the ladv, and waa
422 TEE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
surprised to find her the daughter of a person at whose hoiise, in Jamaica.
he had himself been frequently received with kindness. -Although his
business pressed, he determined to stay and afford her some assistance. He
then stated that he had that day given l>er a 2/. note, which his lordship,
at this interview, returned (being the note on which the indictment was
founded). He added, that Sirs. Grant's fatlier was extremely affluent,
and he should not wonder if he was to remit 500^. at the first intelligence
of his daughter's situation. His lordship in his evidence said, that he
seemed to express himself in language of the purest truth and benevolence ;
and as he appeared a well-educated gentleman, who had seen the world, he
had no suspicion of any fraud.
After this interview a correspondence took place between the pretended
clergyman and his lordship, in which the former stated the progression of
the patient, Mrs. Grant, towards convalescence, and at her desire requested
that linen, poultry, fruit, and wine, might be forwarded, all of which were
supplied by the bounty of the noble lord. .
At length Mrs. Grant was sufiiciently recovered to be able to write to
his lordship, and in her letter she expressed her unbounded thanks for the
benevolence which she had experienced at his hands, and remarked that but
for the friendly introduction of the Rev. Mr. Paul, she believed that she
would have been lost. She then went on to say, that although she had
been ordered by her medical attendant to keep herself perfectly quiet, yet
she could not resist the temptation of sitting up in bed to write to her bene-
factor, whom she hoped to be able shortly to thank personally for his
numerous kindnesses.
The last letter from Mr. Paul was dated August 23. He acknowledged
the receipt of %l. 2s. which had been expended for Mrs. Grant ; and in-
formed his lordship that the sheets which had been last sent, had, by some
accident, been near brimstone, which affected ]\Irs. Grant very much ; that
her situation required fine old linen, if liis lordship had any such. He
apologized, if there should be any inaccuracy in his letter, because he had
a head-ache and some degree offerer.
The farce now began to draw to its conclusion. His lordship received
another letter from Mrs. Grant, dated Saturday, September 1st, in which
the supposed lady said : —
" Last Saturday, her father's sister came to town, and found her out.
She was a sour old lady, a man-hater, and snarled at the whole sex. She
had taken ]\Irs. G. into the country with her, although she was removed
at the peril of her life. The lady she was with was nearly as bad as her
aunt ; but, as the latter was going out for a few days, her Argus would
let her come to town, which would enable her to meet his lordship. As
her ill-tempered aunt had given her neither money nor clothes, she begged
Al. of his lordship. If this opportunity was lost, she should never be able
to see him, as her aunt was a vigilant woman, and hated the men so much,
that at the first entrance into her room, finding the Rev. ]\Ir. Paul there,
she most grossly affronted him. She could not have any letter addressed
in her own name lest it should fall into the liands of her aunt, and there-
fore begged his lordship to direct to Mrs. Harriet, Post-ofiice, Waltham."
His lordship, in his answer to this letter, expressed some suspicions that
he had been duped ; in answer to which Mrs. Grant thanked Lord Claren-
don for his favours, and declared that she was sorry to think he should
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAP. 423
conceive himself duped, but he would find his mistake wlien she got home
to the West Indies. In a postscript, she added — " Tliat best of men, Mr.
Paul, died suddenly on Saturday last."
This closed the intercourse between his lordship and his correspondents,
Mrs. Grant and Mr. Paul. Soon afterwards, however, he received another
letter from a Rev. Mr. Bennett, setting forth a deplorable tale of mi-
sery ; but his suspicions being awakened, he employed his steward to
trace the supposed Rev. Mr. Bennett, when it turned out to be the prisoner
at the bar, who had imposed himself on his lordship as the Rev. Mr. Paul,
that " best of men," whom Mrs. Grant stated to have "• died suddenly." His
lodgings being searched, a book was found in his o\\ti handwriting, givino-
an account of money received, (by which it appeared that he had plun-
dered the public to the amount of four hundred and eighty-eight pounds
within two years,) with a list of the donors' names, among whom were, the
Duchess of Beaufort, Lord Willoughby de Broke, Lord Lyttleton, Lady
Howard, Lady Mary Duncan, Bishops of London, Salisbury, and Durham,
Earls of Kingston and Radnor, Lord C. Spencer, Hon. Mrs. Fox, &c. &c.
Other memoranda were also found, which showed that the prisoner had
reduced his mode of proceeding to a perfect system, notes beincT taken of
the style of handwriting which he assumed, under his different names, and
of the description of sealing-wax, wafer, and paper, used in his letters.
The jury found the prisoner guilty, and the Court inmiediately sentenced
him to seven years' transportation. He was sent to Botany Bay in
April 1805.
Frequent convictions of a similar character have taken place, but it is
to be hoped, that if the exertions of the police have not been fully suc-
cessful in putting a stop to the system, the public, at least, have been so
far put upon their guard, as that they will not submit to be duped, but
that they will first inquire into and ascertain the real claims of the appli-
cants before they extend their charity to them.
THOMAS PICTON, ESQ.
INDICTED FOR APPLYING THE TORTURE TO LOUISA CALUERON, TO EXTORT A
CONFESSION.
The cruelty of the application of the torture to extort confession, cannot
but be universally admitted in the present enlightened age. The following
remarks of the French philosopher Voltaire admirably illustrate this
feeling, and serve well to introduce the case of Governor Picton :
" All mankind being exposed to the attempts of violence and perfidy,"
says he, " detest the crimes of which they may possibly be the victims';
all desire that the principal offender and his accomplices may be punished;
aevertheless, there is a natural compassion in the human heart, which
makes all men detest the cruelty of torturing the accused into confession.
The law has not condemned them; and yet, though uncertain of the crime^
you inflict a punishment more horrible than that which they are to suffer-
when their guilt is confirmed. ' Possibly thou mayest be innocent ; but I
will torture thee that I may be satisfied ; not that I intend to make the*-
any recompense for the thousand deaths which I have made thee suffer in
424 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
lieu of that which is preparing for thee.' Who does not shudder at the
idea ? St. Augustin opposed such cruelty. The Romans tortured their
slaves only ; and Quintilian, recollecting that they were men, reproved
the Romans for such want of humanity."
The defendant, Thomas Picton, Esq. was indicted for putting to the
torture a female, Louisa Calderon, one of his majesty's subjects in the
island of Trinidad in the West Indies, in order to extort confession.
Mr. Garrow stated the case for the prosecution ; and, whilst he expressed
the strongest desire to bring to condign punishment the perpetrator of an
offence so flagrant as that charged upon the defendant, yet much more
happy would he be to find that there was no ground upon which the
charge could be supported, and that the British character was not stained
by the adoption of so cruel a measure. The island of Trinidad, he said,
surrendered to Sir Ralph Abercrombie in the year 1797; and he entered
into a stipulation, by which he conceded to the inhabitants the continuance
of their laws, and appointed a new governor, imtil his majesty's pleasure
should be known, or, in other words, until the king should extend to this
new acquisition to his empire all the sacred privileges of the laws of Eng-
land. He had the authority of the defendant himself for stating, that the
system of jurisprudence adopted under the Spanish monarch, for his
colonial establishments, was benignant, and adapted to the protection of
the subject, previous to the surrender of this island to the British arms.
In December 1801, when this crime was perpetrated, Louisa Calderon
was of the tender age of ten or eleven years. At that early period she
had been induced to live with a person named Pedro Ruiz, as his mistress ;
and although it appeared to them very singular that she should sustain
such a situation at that time of life, yet it was a fact, that in that climate,
women often became mothers at twelve years old, and were in a state of
concubinage, if, from their condition, they could not form a more honour-
able connexion. While she lived with Ruiz, she was engaged in an
intrigue with Carlos Gonzalez, the pretended friend of the former, who
robbed him of a quantity of dollars. Gonzalez was apprehended, and she
also, as some suspicion fell upon her, in consequence of the affair, was
taken into custody. She was taken before the justice, and, in his presence,
she denied having any concern in the business. The magistrate felt that
his powers were at an end ; and whether the object of her denial were to
protect herself, or her friend, was not material. The extent of his autho-
rity being thus limited, the ofl&cer of justice resorted to General Picton ;
and he had now to produce, in the handwriting of the defendant, this
bloody sentence : — " Inflict the torture upon Louisa Calderon." There
was no delay in proceeding to its execution. The girl was informed in the
jail, that, if she did not confess, she would be subjected to the torture;
that under this process she might probably lose her limbs or her life ; but
the calamity would be on her own head, for, if she would confess, she
would not be required to endure it. While her mind was in the state of
agitation this notice produced, her fears were aggravated by the intro-
duction of two or three negresses into her prison, who were to suffer
under the same experiment for witchcraft, and as a means of extorting con-
fession. In this situation of alarm and horror, the yoimg woman persisted
in lier innocence : and a punishment was inflicted, improperly called pick-
eting. That was a military punishment, perfectly distinct in its nature. This
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 425
■was not picketing, but the torture. It was true, the soldier, exposed to this,
iid stand with his foot on a picket, or sharp piece of wood; but, in mercy
to him, a means of reposing was aflforded, on the rotundus major, or inte-
rior of the arm. Her position miglit be easily described. The great toe
was lodged upon a sharp piece of wood, while the opposite wrist was sus-
pended in a pulley, and the other hand and foot were lashed together.
Another time the liorrid ceremony was repeated, with this difterence,
that her feet were changed.
[[Tlie learned counsel here produced a drawing in water-colours, in which
tlie situation of the sufferer, and the magistrate, executioner, and secretary,
was described. He then proceeded^ ^ —
" It appeared to him, that the case, on the part of the prosecution, would
be complete when these facts were established in evidence ; but he was to
be told, that though the highest authority in this country could not prac-
tise tliis on the humblest individual, yet that, by the laws of Spain, it
could be perpetrated in the island of Trinidad. He would venture to
assert, that if it were written in characters impossible to be misunderstood,
that if it were the acknowledged law of Trinidad, it could be no justifica-
tion of a British governor. Nothing could vindicate such a person, but
the law of imperious necessity, to which all must submit. It was his duty
to impress upon the minds of the people of that colony, the great advan-
tages they would derive from the benign influence of British jurisprudence ;
and that in consequence of being received within the pale of this govern-
ment, torture would be for ever banished from the island. It was not
suificient for him, therefore, to establish this sort of apology ; it was
required of him to show, tliat he complied with the institutions, under
circumstances of irresistible necessity. This governor ought to have been
aware tliat the torture was not known in England; and that it never would
be, never could be tolerated in this country.
" The trial by rack was utterly unknown to the law of England, though
once, when the Dukes of Exeter and Suffolk, and other ministers of Henry
VI. had laid a design to introduce the civil law into this kingdom, as the
rule of government, for a beginning thereof they erected a rack for torture,
wliicli was called in derision the Duke of Exeter's daughter, and still re-
mained in the Tower of London, where it was occasionally used as an
engine of state, not of law, more than once in the reign of Queen Elizabetli.
But when, upon the assassination of Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, by
Felton, it was proposed in the Privy Council to put the assassin to the
rack, in order to discover his accomplices, the judges, being consulted,
declared unanimously, to their own honour, and tlie honour of the English
law, that no such proceeding was allowable by the laws of England.
" Such was the effect of the observations of the elegant and learned
author of the Commentaries of the Law of England on this subject ; and as
the strongest method of showing the horror of the practice, he gave this
question in the form of an arithmetical problem : — ' The strength of the
muscles and the sensibility of the nerves being given, it was required to
know what degree of pain would be necessary to make any particular
individual confess his guilt.'
" But what were they to say to this man, who, so far from having
found torture in practice under the former governors, had attached to
himself all the infamy of having invented this instrument of cruelty ?
VOL. I. 3 I
4-26 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
Like the Duke of Exeter's Daughter, it never had existence until the de-
fendant cursed the island with its production. He had incontestible evi-
dence to show this ingenuity of tyranny in a British governor ; and the
moment he produced the sanguinary order, the man was left absolutely
without defence. The date of this transaction was removed at some dis-
tance. It was directed that a commission should conduct the affairs of the
government, and among the persons appointed to this important situation
was Colonel FuUarton. In the exercise of his duties in that situation, he
attained the knowledge of these facts ; and with this information he
thought it incumbent on him to bring this defendant before the jury ; and
with the defendant the victim of this enormity would also be produced."
Louisa Calderon was then called. She appeared about eighteen years
of age, of a very interesting countenance, being a Mulatto or Creole, and
of a very genteel appearance. She was dressed in white, with a turban of
white muslin, tied on in the custom of the country. Her person was
slender and graceful. She spoke English but very indifferently ; and was
examined by Mr. Adam, through the medium of a Spanish interpreter.
She deposed that she resided in the island of Trinidad in the year 1798 ;
and lived in the house of Don Pedro Ruiz, and remembered the robbery.
She and her mother were taken up on suspicion, and brought before Go-
vernor Picton, who committed them to prison, under the escort of three
soldiers. She was put into close confinement ; and before she was taken
there the governor said, " If she did not confess who had stolen the money,
the hangman would have to deal with her."
She was afterwards carried to the room where the torture was prepared.
Her left hand was tied up to the ceiling by a rope, with a pulley ; her
right hand was tied behind, so that her right foot and hand came in con-
tact, while the extremity of her left foot rested on the wooden spike. A
drawinor representing the exact situation, with the negro holding the rope
by which she was suspended, was then shown to her ; when she gave a
shudder, expressive of horror, which nothing but the most painful recol-
lection of her situation could have excited ; on which Mr. Garrow expressed
his concern that his Lordship was not in a position to witness this acci-
dental, but conclusive, evidence of the fact.
The remainder of the witness's evidence corroborated the statement of
Mr. Garrow. She remained upon the spike three quarters of an hour, and
the next day twenty- two minutes. Slie swooned away each time before
she was taken down, and was then put into irons, called the " grilles,"
which were loner pieces of iron, with two rings for the feet, fastened to the
wall, and in this situation she remained during eight months. The effect
produced by the torture was excruciating pain ; her wrists and ankles
were much swollen, and the former bore the marks of the barbarity em-
ployed towards her to the present day.
Don Rafael Shandoz, an alguazil in the island, bore testimony to his
having seen the girl immediately after the application of the torture. The
apartment, in which she was afterwards confined, was like a garret, with
slopincf sides, and the grillos were so placed tliat, by the lowness of the
room, she could by no means raise herself up, during the eigiit months of
her confinement. There was no advocate appointed to attend on her be-
half, and no surgeon to assist her. No one but a negro, belonging to
Uailot, the gaoler, to pull the rope. The witness had been four or five
•^.^^A-ey '^(yi.^c{A^<
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 427
years in the post of alguazil. He never knew the torture inflicted in the
island, until the arrival of the defendant. There had heen hefore no instru-
ment for the purpose. The first he saw was in tlie barracks among the
soldiers. Before Louisa Calderon, the instrument had been introduced
into the gaol perhaps about six months. The first person he saw tortured
in Trinidad was by direction of the defendant, who said to the gaoler,
" Go and fetch the black man to the picket-guard, and put him to the tor-
ture." After the eight months' confinement, both Carlos and Louisa were
discharged.
The order for the application of the torture, in the following words
— " Applicase la question a Louisa Calderon" — (Apply the torture to
Louisa Calderon) — was then proved to be in the handwriting of the defend-
ant ; and the suggestion of the alcade Beggerat, before whom the girl had
been examined, that slight torture should be applied, was read.
Don Juan Monies then said that he had known the island of Trinidad
since the year 1793. That the torture was never introduced until after the
conquest of the island, and was then practised by order of the defendant.
It was first used with the military in 1799, and two years afterwards in
the gaol.
Mr. Dallas, for the defendant, rested his defence upon the following
statements : — •
First, — By the law of Spain, in the present instance, torture was di
rected ; and, being bound to administer that law, he was vindicated in its
application.
Secondly, — The order for the torture, if not unlawfully, was not mali-
ciously issued.
Thirdly, — If it were unlawful, yet, if the order were erroneously or
mistakenly issued, it was a complete answer to a criminal charge.
The learned counsel entered at considerable length into these positions,
during which he compared the law of Spain, as it prevailed in Trinidad, to
the law of England, as it subsisted in some of our own islands ; and he
contended that the conduct of General Picton was gentleness and humanity,
compared to what might be practised with impunity under the authority
of the British government.
Mr. Gloucester, the Attorney-General of his Majesty in the island, was
then called, and he deposed to the authenticity of several books on the laws
of the island, among wliich were the Elisondo, the Curia Philippica, the
Bobadilla, the Colom, and the Recopilacion de Leyes.
Various passages in these books were referred to, and translated, for
the purpose of showing that torture was not only permitted in certain
cases, but in the particular instance before the jury.
Mr. Garrow was then allowed to call a witness, to show tliat, however
such a law might at any time have existed, or might still exist, in Spain,
it did not prevail in the West Indian colonies of that power. To this end,
Don Pedro de Vargass was sworn. He deposed that, during the early
part of his life, he had been regularly initiated and admitted to the ofl&cb
of an advocate of the Spanish law-courts in the colonies ; that he had
practised after his admission, in the regular course, for two years, and had
resided at five or six of the West India islands, in tlie pursuit of his pro-
fession ; and that, according to his knowledge of tlie Book of Recapitula-
tion, by which the laws were administered, there was nothing contained in
it to justify the infliction of torture, nor was torture, to his knowledge,
428 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
evLT resorted to. There was a law of Old Castile, of the year 1260, which
justified the torture in certain cases, but he never understood that it
extended to the West Indies, and it was so much abhorred in Spain, that
it was either repealed, or had fallen entirely into disuse.
I\Ir. Dallas and Mr. Garrow then severally addressed the jury ; and Lord
EUenborouoh in summing up, recommended them to divest their minds of
every feeling which they might have contracted in the course of the present
trial, and to throw every part of the case out of their consideration, except
that which related to this simple point : — What was the law by which the
island of Trinidad was governed at the period of its capture by the British ?
It was for the consideration of the jury whether the law then subsisting au-
thorised personal torture to be inflicted. By the indulgence of the govern-
ment of this country, the subsisting law was to continue ; the question was,
What was that subsisting law ? The jury would observe, that it did not
necessarily follow, because Trinidad was a colony of Old Spain, that it must
therefore,' in every part, have the laws of Old Spain. It did not origi-
nally form any part of that country, but had been annexed to it ; and on
what terms there was no positive evidence. It did not appear that either
the schedule peculiar to this island, or the recapitulation, embraced the cri-
minal law, or made any mention of torture. So, if torture did subsist in
this island, it must be on the authority of law books read to the jury; and it
■was ascertained by several persons, apparently of competent knowledge, that
torture had not, within their recollection, ever been practised in the island.
It was, therefore, for the jury to say, in the absence of all positive proof on
the subject, and in the face of so much negative evidence, wliether the law
of Spain was so fully and completely established in Trinidad as to make tor-
ture a part of the law of that island. Without going through the authorities,
he thought the jury might take it to be the existing law of Old Spahi,
that torture might be inflicted. It was too much to say, that a disconti-
nuance of a practice could repeal a law ; but they had to determine whe-
ther they were convinced that torture had ever been part of the law of
Trinidad ; and also whether they were convinced that it was part of the law
of Trinidad at the time of its capture. If so, they would enter a special
verdict; if otherwise they would find the defendant guilty.
The jury found — There was no such law existing in the island of Tri-
nidad, as that of torture, at the time of the surrender of that island to the
British.
Lord Ellenborough — " Then, gentlemen. General Picton cannot derive
any protection from a supposed law, after you have found that no such law
remained in that island at the surrender of it, and when he became its
governor ; and therefore your verdict should be, that he is guilty."
By the direction of Lord Ellenborough they therefore found the defen-
dant " Guilty."
The trial lasted from nine in the morning till seven at night.
Governor Picton walked the hall of the courts during the whole of the
trial. He was a tall man, of a very sallow complexion, apparently about
fifty years of age, and was dressed in black. He was accompanied by
several of the civil ofiicers of the island.
Mr. Dallas moved on the 25th of April for a new trial, upon the follow-
ing grounds : —
First,— The infamous character of the girl, who lived in open prostitu-
tion with Pedro Ruiz, and who had been privy to a robbery comimtted
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 429
upon her paramour by Carlos Gonzalez ; and that when a complaint laid
against her had been brought before a magistrate, she, refusing to confess,
had been ordered to be tortured.
Secondly, — That Governor Picton, who condemned her to this torture,
did not proceed from any motives of malice, but from a conviction that tlio
right of toi'ture was sanctioned by the laws of Trinidad ; and that lie was
rooted in this opinion by a reference to the legal written authorities in that
island.
Thirdly, — That whatever his conduct might be, it was certainly neitlur
personal malice, nor disposition to tyranny, but resulted, if it should prove
to be wrong, from a misapprehension of the laws of Trinidad.
Fourtlily, — That one of the principal witnesses in this trial, M. Yargass,
had brought forward a book, entitled " Recopilacion des Leyes des
Indes," expressly compiled for the Spanish colonies, which did not autho-
rise torture ; and tliat the defendant had no opportunity of ever seeing that
book ; but it had been purchased by the British Institution at the sale of
the lyiarquis of Lansdowne's library, subsequent to his indictment, and
that having consulted it, it appeared that when that code was silent upon
criminal cases, recourse was always to be had to the laws of Old Spain,
and that those laws sanctioned the torture.
The Court, after some consideration, granted the rule to show cause why
a new trial should not be had, and as the second trial, which was eventu-
ally allowed, was attended with a different result from that of the first,
we think it no more than just to the memory of Governor Picton to con-
clude our notice of this affair with the following apology for his conduct,
which is extracted from a respectable montldy publication : —
" In an evil hour the British Colonel associated with him, in the govern-
ment of the island, the British naval commander on the station, and
Colonel Fullarton. This was, as might naturally have been expected, and
as certainly was designed by one of the parties, the origin of disputes
and the source of anarchy. It is well known that Fullarton, on his
return to England, preferred charges against Picton, which were taken
into consideration by the Privy Council, and gave rise to a prosecution that
lasted for several years. No pains were spared to sully his character, to
ruin his fortunes, and to render him an object of public indignation. A
little strumpet, by name Louisa Calderon, who cohabited with a petty
tradesman in the capital of Trinidad, let another paramour into his house (of
which she had the charge) during his absence, who robbed him, witli her
knowledge and privity, of all he was worth in the world. The girl was
taken before the regular judges of the place ; who, in the course of their
investigation, ascertained the fact that she was privy to the robbery, and
therefore sentenced her, in conformity with the laws of Spain, then pre-
valent in the island, to undergo the punishment of the picket (the same as
is adopted in our own regiments of horse) ; but, as it was necessary that
this sentence should receive the governor's confirmation before it could be
carried into effect, a paper, stating the necessity of it, was sent to the
government-house, and the governor, by his signature, conveyed his assent
to the judges. The girl was accordingly picketed, when she acknowledged
the facts above stated, and discovered her accomplice. That the life of
this girl was forfeited by the laws of every civilised country is a fact that
will not admit of dispute ; yet clemency was here extended to her, and
430 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
she was released, having suffered only the punishment above stated; which
was so slight, that she walked a considerable distance to the prison, witli-
out the least appearance of suffering, immediately after it was inflicted.
But wliat was the return for the lenity of the governor ? He was accused
by Colonel Fullarton of having put this girl (whom he had never even
seen) to the torture, contrary to law ; and the caricaturists of Eno-land
were enlisted in the service of persecution. After a trial which seemed to
liave no end, after an expense of seven thousand pounds, which must have
completed his ruin, had not his venerable uncle, General Picton, defrayed
the whole costs of the suit, while the expenses of his prosecutor were all
paid by the government, his honour and justice were established on the
firmest basis, and to the perfect satisfaction of every upright mind."
RICHARD PATCH.
EXECUTED FOR THE MURDER OF MR. BLIGHT.
The case of this offender is one of those which fully prove, that the
most wicked caution, the most deliberately planned sclieme, or the most
artful preparatory measures to attach suspicion to some other than the real
cause, or to make it fall upon the guiltless, will never conceal murder.
Richard Patch was born in the year 1770, at the village of Heavytree,
Devonshire, within two miles of Exeter, and his family had a name some-
what respectable among the yeomen of the county. The grandfather of
Patch had a freehold estate in land, of the value of fifty pounds per annum,
in a neighbouring village. His father, according to the custom of many of
the petty farmers who reside on the sea-coast in the distant counties, was
a smuggler, and he was noted for a fierceness and an unusual degree of
intrepidity ; but as the life of a smuggler is variable in its scenes, so he
was doomed to change his bold deeds and his unlawful proceedings for a
quiet sojourn in the New Gaol at Exeter, where he was sentenced to be
imprisoned for twelve months, on a conviction obtained at the instance of
the officers of Excise. At the termination of the ^Jeriod of his imprison-
ment, he was engaged by the keeper of the prison as a gaoler, and he con-
tinued to occupy that post until the period of his death. He left several
children, of whom our hero was the eldest. He had been bound apprentice
to a butcher at Ebmere, a small village, the most notorious in the county
for the immorality of its inhabitants, and it is exceedingly probable that
his mind was early inured to thoughts of evil deeds. Upon his father's
decease, he quitted his service as a butcher, and taking possession of the
property, to which, as tlie eldest son, he was entitled, he became a farmer.
His efforts, however, in this line were attended with no success, and he
was soon obliged to mortgage the property which he possessed for more
than one -half its value.
Some years were afterwards passed at Ebmere, when an accident drove
him from his home. From motives which it is unnecessary to examine,
he had quarrelled with tlie rector of his parish, and, in order to be
revenged, he removed the produce of his farm from his land, without set-
ting out the tenths for the rector; or, in other words, he refused to pay
the titiies. The consequence was a lawsuit, and an immediate action in
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 431
the Exchequer. Patch, shuddering at the expense of the litigation, and
the certain result which awaited him, and already somewhat emhar-
rasscd in liis circumstances, quitted Devonshire, in the spring of the
year 1803.
Upon liis coming to London, he immediately presented himself at IMr.
Blight's, with whom his sister, at that time, lived as a menial servant ;
together with a brother of his who was brought up a baker, but, for some
reasons which it is unnecessary to enter into, was now in the service of
Mr. Blight, as a kind of overseer or superintendant in tlie shipping business.
]Mr. Blight, it appears, liad formerly been a "West India mercliant, and
nad failed; upon which he engaged in the ship-breaking business, and was
at this time carrying it on with great success.
Patch had not long entered the service of Mr. Blight, when, from jea-
lousy or some uneasiness, his brother quitted it. He had been disappointed
in endeavouring to set up for himself in the business of a baker to
which he was bred ; and this mortification, aggravated by the conduct
of his brother Richard, excited such a disgust in his mind, that he imme-
diately went to sea, sailed to the West Indies, where he soon died a victim
to the yellow fever.
The thoughts of a partnership with his employer ere long struck our
hero, and he was induced to look upon the scheme with some anticipations
of its realisation, hoping to be able to purchase a share of the business
with the proceeds of his estate in Devonshire. He, in consequence, pro-
ceeded into that county, and having disposed of his land, he cleared off all
its encumbrances, and received a sum of 350^. as the surplus, after the
payment of all expenses. On his return to London at the close of the
year 1804, he made his desire known to his employer, and he paid over to
him a sum of 250^. as a portion of the purchase-money, and deposited the
remainder in the hands of a banker.
The exact nature of the agreement made does not appear, but whatever
the negotiations may have been, they were suddenly stopped by the murder
of Mr. Blight, who was mortally wounded, while sitting in his own house,
by a pistol discharged by an unseen hand, on the 23rd September 1805.
The extraordinary nature of the murder, and the still more singular method
of its perpetration attracted universal attention, and a minute investigation
of all the circumstances having taken place before Mr. Graham a magis-
trate, suspicion fell upon Patch, and he was committed to prison.
His trial came on at the Surrey assizes, continued by adjournment to
Horsemonger-lane, in the Borough, on Saturday, 5th April 1806. In the
mean time the interest produced in reference to the case was of the most
extraordinary nature.
By five o'clock in the morning of the trial, a vast concourse of the popu-
lace had assembled, and on the opening of the Court it was with the utmost
difficulty that the law-officers and others could obtain an entrance. The
Dukes of Sussex, Cumberland, and Orleans ; Lords Portsmouth, Grantley,
Cranley, jMontford, William Russel, Deerluirst, and G. Seymour; Sir
John Frederick, Sir John Shelley, Sir Thomas Turton, Sir William Clayton,
Sir J.i\Iawby; Count Woronzow, the Russian ambassador, and his secretary,
were present. The magistrates had made every accommodation that the
Ccurt would admit of: and a box was fitted up for the royal family.
The prisoner was conducted into court soon after nine o'clock, and took
432 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
liis station at the jar, attended by two or three friends. He w.is genteelly
dressed in bLick, and perfect composure marked his countenance and man-
ner. Precisely at ten o'clock, the Lord Chief Baron IVIacdonald took his
seat on the bench ; and to the indictment the prisoner pleaded, in an
audible voice, " Not guilty."
He peremptorily challenged three jurors ; after which a jury was
sworn, and the indictment read.
The first witness called was INIr. Richard Frost, a publican, who kept the
Dog and Duck. The first part of liis testimony related merely to the fact of
the death of ]\Ir. Blight. He stated, tliat on the morning of the 23rd of
September last, he was sent for by the prisoner, in consequence of the
deceased having been killed by a pistol-shot : he went, and found him
leaning on his hands and wounded.
Mr. Astley Cooper said he was called in to the assistance of Mr. Blight.
Upon examining him he found he had received a wound near the navel,
and anotlier in tlie groin. He observed that they were gun-shot wounds ;
and as the body of the deceased was considerably inflated, he pronounced
them mortal : he observed the bowels coming through the wounds. The
next morning, at seven o'clock, Patch came to him, said the deceased was
in extreme pain, and wished to know whether anything could be done for
him. The witness told him he feared there could not ; but he rose and
went to him, and found him in a very swollen state. He promised to return
in the afternoon with a physician. He went to town, and came back with
Dr. Barrington ; but Mr. Blight had been dead about three quarters of an
hour. He had not the smallest doubt that the wounds were the occasion
of his death.
Richard Frost was again called up to speak to the firing of the gun.
He stated that on Thursday, the 19th, " there was a report of the firing of
a gun at jNIr. Blight's house ;" he went out to ascertain the cause, but did
not perceive any person coming from the premises ; and he was in a situa-
tion in which, had the person who fired it attempted to make his escape,
he must have observed him ; it was about eight o'clock in the evening, and
it was dark ; but he was near enough to have seen any one run away, or
climb the wall.
]\Iiss Ann Davis and I\Iiss JVIartha Davis, sisters, who happened to be
walking by the premises in a different direction from the last witness,
stated, tliat they also saw the flash, and heard the report of a gun, and
must liave seen any person attempting to escape ; but all was quiet, and
they concluded tliat the gun was fired by some one on the premises.
After this head of evidence, to establish that the gun fired on the Thurs-
day preceding the death of Mr. Blight, was not by any stranger, but by
the prisoner, witnesses were called to relate the circumstances which
occurred on the 23rd.
Mr. ]\Iichael Wright .stated that he was going past I\Ir. Bliglit's house
a little after eight, when he heard the report of a pistol in the house ; and
haviiig become acquainted by the rumour of the farmer attempt, he was
induced to go up to the house with a view to offer his assistance. He
knocked for some time and was not admitted ; but insisting on having the
door opened, Patch made his appearance, and began informing him what
a dreadful accident had happened. The witness was impatient at hearing
this story ; he thought that some means should be rather adopted to pursue
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 433
the uiurderer, and recommended Patch to commission him to apply tc
Bow-street, as an inquiry taking place instantly after the assassination
would most probably be attended with success. Patch seemed reluctant,
and thought that no good effect could result from it. The witness there-
fore went away.
Hester Kitchener s evidence applied to the two days. She stated that
on the 19th she had been ordered by the prisoner to shut up the shuttei'S
of the house earlier than usual. Her master and mistress were then at
Margate. At eight o'clock the prisoner sent her out for some oysters ;
and as she returned, she heard the report of a gun, but she did not see any
one. "When she saw Patch, he cried, " Oh, Hester, I have been shot at ! "
She rejoined, " Lord forbid ! " They then looked for the ball, which she
found. The witness continued to state that her master returned to town
on the Monday morning ; that in the evening he and the prisoner drank
tea together in the back parlour, and afterwards had some grog. Her
master was fatigued, heavy, and sleepy with his journey and the liquor ;
and Patch came down in a hurry to her in the kitchen, and complaininof
of a pain in his bowels, wanted a light to go into the yard. She gave it to
him, as also a key of the counting-house, through which it was necessary
he should pass. She heard him enter the back place and slam the door
after him, and immediately after, she heard the report of a pistol. Her
master ran down into the kitchen, exclaiming, " Oh, Hester, I am a dead
man ! " and supported himself upon the dresser. She ran up to shut the
door ; and as she was half-way down the passage, on her return, she
heard Patch knocking violently for admittance. He asked what was the
matter ; she told him ; on which he went down and oflfered his assistance.
He asked the deceased if he knew of any one who could owe him a grudge ?
Mr. Blight answered, " No, as he was not at enmity with any man in the
world."
Mr. Christopher Morgan said that he was passing by when the fatal
shot was fired ; he went to the house, and saw Mr. Blight lying in a
wounded situation, and recommended Mr. Patch, in the first instance, to
search the premises all over. Patch told him to go and search an old ship
that was off the wharf, as he had reason to think that the perpetrator
might have escaped there ; for he heard a noise in that direction on the
night when the gun was previously fired ; and he went, but found that the
ship was lying at the distance of sixteen feet from the wharf ; that it was
low water : that from the top of the wharf to the mud was ten feet ; that
the soil was soft mud, and that any one who might attempt to escape that
way must have been up to his middle. Besides, the mud did not bear the
appearance of any one having passed through it ; and he was, therefore,
perfectly convinced that no one escaped over the wharf towards tlie water.
Six other persons, who happened to be in different directions leading
from Mr. Blight's house to the public roads, most distinctly proved, that
when the shot was fired which killed Mr. Blight, everything was quiet
on the outside of the premises ; that there was no appearance of any person
attempting to escape ; and if there had been, that there was no possi-
bility of his eluding observation.
The next series of evidence went to show that the prisoner was carrying
on a system of delusion and fraud against the deceased, in respect to certain
pecuniary transactions between them. It was proved by Mrs. Blight, tha
VOL. 1, 3 k
434 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
deceased's widow, that her husband, who had fallen into some embarrass-
mtnts, had, in order to mask his property, made a nominal assignment of
it to Patch ; but the assignment was not to be carried into eiFect, unless
the trustees of his creditors should, as he apprehended, become importu-
nate. This confidential assignment Patch wished to convert into an abso-
lute sale, for consideration given on his part ; but ]\Irs. Blight declared
that he had never paid her husband any money, excepting two liundred and
fifty pounds, part of one thousand two hundred and fifty pounds, the con-
sideration for a share of his business.
The next branch of evidence referred to the stockings which the prisoner
had on the night that Mr. Blight lost his life. It was proved that he
generally wore boots ; but the witnesses' memory enabled them to say that
he had white stockings on during the evening of the 23rd. Mr. Stafford,
of the police-oiSce, stated that, on examining the bed-room of Mr. Patch,
they were folded up like a clean pair, but that, on opening them, the soles
appeared dirty, as if a person had walked in them without shoes : the in-
ference from this was, that the prisoner had taken off his shoes in order
that lie might walk out of the necessary without being heard by the maid.
The last important fact was the discovery of the ramrod of a pistol in
the privy, and the proof that that place had not recently been visited by
any person suffering under a bowel complaint. This, and a vast variety
of circumstantial evidence, concluded the case on the part of the crown.
The prisoner being called upon for his defence, delivered in a long and
elaborate address, supposed to have been written by his counsel, which he
requested might be read by the officer of the court : it began by thanking
the learned judge for moving his trial from a place where prejudice might
have operated against him ; complained much of that prejudice having been
excited against him by premature reports in the public journals ; and then
entered into a general train of argument, inferring, that in a case of life and
death, a jury ought not to convict upon circumstantial evidence ; the more
especially where the proof appeared, as in the present case, so dubious. He
stated that whatever might be the result of their judgment upon the evidence,
it was almost a matter of indifference to him on his own account ; for he
was borne down and subdued by the unjust prejudices of the public, by the
long imprisonment he had endured, and by the enormous expenses to
which he had been subjected ; but he had those relations who made life
dear to him : he had children who looked to him for support, and who
would not only be dishonoured, but ruined by his death. The only
evidence which he adduced was that of three persons who spoke to his
general character.
The Lord Chief Baron summed up the evidence in the most perspicuous
manner, occupying nearly two hours in commenting upon every part of it ;
when the jury retired for about a quarter of an hour, and on their return
pronounced a verdict of Guilty.
His lordship then proceeded to pronounce the awful sentence of the law.
He observed, that the prisoner had begun his career of guilt in a system
of fraud towards his friend ; he had continued it in ingratitude, and had
terminated it in blood. He then directed that he should be executed on
Monday, and that his body should be delivered for dissection.
Patch, who had the appearance of a decent yeoman, and was about
thirty-eight years of age, during the whole of the trial never betrayed the
THE NEW NEWGATE CALEIVDAK 43.'>
slightest symptom of embarrassment : his appearance evinced a seeming
composure, which innocence alone could manifest, or the most consummate
villany could counterfeit. He heard the dreadful sentence with a degree
of apathy, as if he had previously made up his mind to the event. The
execution was eventually deferred till the next Tuesdaj'^, it being deemed
advisable that he should suffer with a man and his wife, Benjamin and
Sarah Herring, who had been convicted at Kingston, March 28, of coining,
in order to obviate the inconvenience of having two public executions fol-
lowing each other so closely. It was in consequence of this suggestion of
Mr. Ives, the keeper, to the Chief Baron (who, with the Dukes of Sussex
and Gloucester, retired to his house after the trial), that his lordship was
induced to order the respite, which he wrote thus on the margin of the
first order for execution : —
" Let the execution be respited till Tuesday, the 8tli day of April, 1806.
"• A. Macdonald."
It seems that Herring and his wife had carried on the trade of coining
to a great extent, at their own house in St. George's Fields. On searcliing
their premises, a complete set of coining implements, punches, aquafortis,
&c., were found, besides upwards of seventy shillings, a quantity of dol-
lars, half-crowns, and sixpences, all ready for circulation.
But to return to Patch. — This criminal, after condemnation, remained
perfectly calm and unembarrassed. He slept well during the greater part
of the Saturday night, rose at nine o'clock on the next morning, and attended
divine service at half-past ten. About a quarter before eleven, the Rev.
Mr. Mann, the ordinary, preached tlie condemned sermon, in a style the
most impressive and affecting ; to which Mr. Patch paid becoming atten-
tion. On his return, he looked the gaoler steadfastly in the face for about
two minutes, and then ejaculated, "I am innocent;" but he appeared
composed as usual during the remainder of the day. He continued to
preserve a sullen silence until Monday afternoon, when that composure which
had marked his countenance left him. He was informed by the ordinary
of the gaol, that his friends approached to take their last farewell of him
for ever, when he gave up all hope of a reprieve, and exclaimed, " Is no
mercy to be expected ?" His relations, viz., his sister, who had lived with
Mr. Blight, a younger brother, who bore a strong resemblance in person
to the unfortunate man, and a brother-in-law, with his wife, a nephew,
and another distant relation, were admitted to him, and remained with
him until three o'clock, when they took their last farewell. Patch was
now most sensibly affected, and the scene was truly distressing. He em-
braced each of his relatives, and wept bitterly, clinging to them until the
moment had arrived when their absence was required. After this affecting
scene, Mr. Ives, the governor of the prison, went to his cell, and Patch
here utterred an expression adequate to a confession of his guilt. He said,
" I have confessed my sins to God ; man can give me no relief." He
was also visited by the Rev. Mr. Mann, and three dissenting ministers.
In their interviews with him he evinced the strongest proofs of a penitent
sinner ; but invariably declined to give any answer to tlie urgent entreaties
of the clergymen to acknowledge the crime for which he was to die. Mr
Graham, the magistrate who committed him to prison, was the last person
admitted to see him on this night. Before they parted Mr. Patch took
him by the hand, and said, emphatically, " We shall, I trust, meet iu
Heaven."
43f> THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
The three dissenting ministers remained with him during the night, and
ne appeared extremely penitent and devout.
At about half-past six o'clock on Tuesday morning, the Rev. Mr. Mann,
and the curate of the Rev. Mr. Rowland Hill, came to the prison, and
after a short interview Patch and Herring received the sacrament, Mrs.
Herring, who was a Catholic, being left with a priest, the Rev. Mr
Griffiths.
About five minutes before nine o'clock the high-sheriff demanded the
bodies of the unfortunate sufferers ; and immediately after, they began to
move in the usual order, followed by Mr. Ives, the keeper of the prison.
When they got to the open yard. Herring and his wife were placed on a
sledge, and drawn to the entrance of the stair -case leading to the apparatus
for the execution, from which they ascended the stairs with as much firm-
ness as could be expected. Patch displayed his usual intrepidity.
While Jack Ketch was fastening the ropes, the Rev. Mr. Mann attended
Patch, and, for the last time, attempted to draw from him a confession, but
with no better success. The sheriff then went to him, and entreated him
to confess ; but he steadfastly refused. At this time the cap was drawn
upon his face, and everything prepared to launch him into eternity. Ap-
parently displeased at being pressed so much upon the subject, he now threw
himself considerably back with impatience. From the violent motion of his
body, some of the spectators supposed that he meant to break his neck, as
Avershaw did on Kennington-common ; Mr. Ives immediately went to him
and said, " My good friend, what are you about ?" and they conversed to-
gether for about a minute and a half. The unfortunate prisoners were then
immediately put to death by the falling of the drop.
The execution took place on the 8th of April, 1806.
The body of Patch, after hanging the usual time, was taken to the hos-
pital of the prison, in order to be anatomised by the county surgeon. He
was an athletic, broad-shouldered man, about five feet seven inches high,
and to the last maintained his florid looks, which, however, were constitu-
tional, and not the effect of any extraordinary degree of determination.
WILLIAM DUNCAN,
20NVICTED OF THE MORDER OF HIS MASTER.
This case is worthy of remark from the singular mode in which the
murder of the unfortunate gentleman, the employer of the prisoner, was
committed. It appears that Duncan was in the service of 3Ir. Chivers, a
gentleman between seventy and eighty years of age, and much troubled
with tlie gout, who resided at Clapham-common, as gardener. On the
morning of the 24th of January, 1807, he was at work as usual in the
warden, when his master, according to his custom, went out to him to
supermtend his proceedings. At about half-past 1 1 o'clock, the gardener
suddenly ran in doors, exclaiming, " Lord, what have I done ; I have
struck my master, and he has fallen," and immediately left the house. The
footman proceeded into the garden to discover what had happened, and
found his master lying on the ground, with his face most frightfully cut.
He directly procured surgical aid, when it was found that Mr. Chiver*
THE XEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 437
nad received a wound with a spade, the end of which had entered the lower
])art of his nose, had broken both his jaw-bones, and had penetrated nearly
to a line with his ear?, so that liis head was almost divided. The unfor-
tunate gentleman died immediately afterwards, and the prisoner was sub-
sequently secured, and committed to Horsemonger-lane gaol.
The prisoner was indicted at the ensuing assizes, when the offence hav-
ing been brought home to him by the witnesses for the prosecution, he was
called on for his defence. He then addressed the Court as follows : —
" I beg leave to assure your lordship that I never bore Mr. Chivers any
malice whatever. On Saturday morning I had been employed in digging
some ground, and with my spade in my hand I went to the green-house
to give it some air, and there I left my spade. I then went for some
refreshment, at eleven o'clock in the morning, as was usual, and, on going
into the kitchen, I saw the footman, of Avhom I asked how long it was
since Mr. Chivers went out. I went into the garden, and to the green-
house, into which I let a little more air, and, with my spade in my hand,
I looked at a vine. I saw j\Ir. Chivers, told him that I had finished my
digging, and said I was very sorry to have left so good a place, and now
to be turned off. A few words passed between Mr. Chivers and me; and
tlie last expression he used was, ' You scoundrel, I will break your skull.'
He shook his cane over me; lie made an attempt to strike at me, when I,
turning aside, escaped; he again endeavoured to strike, and I avoided the
blow. After this he followed me up with his cane, and I then had, as I
before said, a spade in my hand. I raised the spade, and to my surprise
struck him.
" Immediately afterwards I went into the green-house, with the full in-
tention of taking away my own life, but I had not sufficient courage to do
it. I then went into the kitchen, and called Henry, who said ' What is
the matter?' and I replied, ' Good Lord, I have struck my master, and
lie fell!' I went out towards Clapham, and the first persons I saw were
a butler and a gardener. I went to the garden of JMr. Robert Tliornton,
and asked for Mr. Dixon, who is one of the gardeners. They said he was
cutting a vine; but they went to him, and Mr. Dixon sent me word that
I might come to him. I then informed Mr. Dixon of what had happened,
and upon his advice surrendered myself into custody."
Witnesses having been called, who gave the prisoner an excellent cha-
racter, the jury found him guilty, and he was sentenced to be executed
on the following Monday in the usual form. He was, however, twice
respited, and eventually ordered to be transported for life.
JOHN HOLLOWAY AND OWEN HAGGERTY,
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
The fatal accident which happened on the spot and at the moment of
the execution of these men, by which more than forty people lost their
lives, and many more were terribly bruised, will cause their memory, aa
well as their crimes, to remain a dreadful warning to many generations.
Their whole case was attended with singular and awful circumstances. Of
438 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
their guilt many entertained doubts, which are not yet entirely removed,
although no further discovery has been made respecting the horrid deed ; and
as lately as the year 1813, a man named Ward was indicted for the same
murder, but acquitted. Their conviction rested, certainly, upon the evi-
dence of a wretch as base as themselves, who stated himself to have been
their accomplice; but the public indignation against them was excited to
such a pitch, that it is scarcely to be wondei'ed at that a jury pronounced
them guilty.
On the 6th of November, 1802, Mr. John Cole Steele, who kept the
Lavender Warehouse in Catliarine-street, Strand, was murdered, with
much barbarity, on Hounslow Heath, and his pockets rifled of their con-
tents. Tlie murderers escaped; and, though rewards were offered for their
apprehension, no discovery was made.
Every searcli had been made by the officers of the police after them;
several loose characters had been apprehended on suspicion, but discharged
on examination; and all hopes had been given up of tracing the murderers,
when a circumstance occurred, about four years afterwards, which led to
the apprehension of John Holloway and Owen Haggerty. — A man of the
name of Benjamin Hanfield, who had been convicted, at the Old Bailey,
of grand larceny, in stealing a pair of shoes, was sentenced to seven years'
transportation, and was conveyed on board a hulk at Portsmouth, to await
his departure for New South Wales ; but having been taken with a severe
illness, and being tortured in his mind by the apparent recollection of a
murder, about which he constantly raved, he said he wished to make a
discovery before he died. A messenger was immediately despatched to the
police magistrates at Bow-street, to communicate the circumstance, and
an officer was sent to bring him before them. When he was brought on
shore, they were obliged to wait several days, during which his illness
would not permit his removal. On his arrival in town, he made a full
disclosure of the circumstances attending the murder of Mr. Steele, and the
magistrates having sent him, in custody of an officer, to Hounslow Heath,
he there pointed out the fatal spot where the murder was perpetrated. As
his evidence implicated Haggerty and Holloway, measures were taken to
apprehend them, and, after a long search, they were taken into custody.
Several private examinations of all the parties took place. Hanfield was
admitted king's evidence, and the public once more cherished a hope that
the murderers would meet the punishment they deserved.
Monday, February 9, I8O7, being the day appointed for the final
examination of the prisoners, they were brought before Mr. Moser, at
Worship-street Police-office.
There was a great body of evidence adduced, none of which tended ma-
terially to criminate tlie prisoners, except that of Hanfield, the accomplice,
who, under the promise of pardon, had turned king's evidence. The pri-
soners denied having any knowledge whatever of the crime laid to their
charge, and heartily hoped that punishment would come to the guilty; but,
the magistrates, after maturely considering the whole of the proofs ad-
duced, thought proper to commit them for trial at the next sessions at the
Old Bailey, and bound over no less than twenty-four persons to appear and
give evidence on the trial.
Such was the eager curiosity of the public to know the issue of this triol,
which came on February 20, before Sir Simon Le Blanc, knight, that the
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 439
whole Court and area of the Old Bailey were greatly crowded. — "When put
to the bar, Holloway appeared to be about forty years of age, of great mus-
cular streno-th, tall, and of savage, brutal, and ferocious countenance, with
large thick lips, depressed nose, and high cheek bones. Haggerty was a
small man, twenty-four years of age.
Evidence was then adduced to show, that Mr. Steele, besides his resi-
dence in Catherine-street, had a house and grounds at Feltham, where he
cultivated lavender and distilled it for sale in London. On the 5th of
November, 1802, he left Catherine-street, giving his family to understand
that he should return on the following evening, and on the same night he
arrived at Feltham. On the next afternoon (Saturday) he quitted Felt-
ham at about seven o'clock, on his way back to London, but he was
never seen alive by any member of his family afterwards. His continued
absence creating alarm, some persons were employed to search for him, and
at length his body was found lying at the bottom of a ditch, near a clump
of trees, at a short distance from the barracks on Hounslow Heath. From
the wounds which appeared about his person, it was evident that his death
had been caused by violence, and Mr. Frogley, a surgeon, being called in,
it was found that liis skull was severely fractured, and that he was other-
wise wounded in a most dreadful manner. It was found also that he had
been robbed of any money which he might have had about him, as well as
of his hat and boots: an old pair of shoes and a common felt hat being left
in their stead, close to the spot where the body was found. Notwithstand-
ing the most strenuous exertions were subsequently made by the police to
discover the perpetrators of this most barbarous murder, no trace was
found until the confession of the accomplice Hanfield, when Vickery, the
officer, was despatched to Portsmouth to bring that person to London. On
his way over Hounslow Heath, he pointed out the exact spot where the
body was found, as that at which the murder was perpetrated, and in con-
sequence of his information Holloway was apprehended at Brentford,
during the election, and Haggerty was taken into custody on board the Shan-
non frigate, in the Channel, where he was serving as a marine. They were
both taken to the police-office and confronted, but they denied all know-
ledge of each other, and of Hanfield, and they both gave accounts of them-
selves as to their condition and situation at the time of the murder, which,
however, turned out to be untrue. While confined in the lock-up, attached
to the office, Bisliop, the officer, secreted himself in the privy adjoining,
where he could hear all their conversation, and he heard them make
use of expressions, which left no doubt of their being acquainted, or of
their having been at Hounslow on the night of the murder.
The king's pardon, under the great seal, to Hanfield alias Enfield, remitting
his sentence of transportation for seven years, for a larceny of which he had
been convicted, and restoring him to his competency as a witness, having
then been read, that witness was called, and made the following statement
on oath : — " I have known Haggerty eight or nine years, and Holloway
six or seven. We were accustomed to meet at the Black Horse, and
Turk's Head, public -houses, in Dyot-street. I was in their company
in the month of November 1802. Holloway, just before the murder,
called me out from the Turk's Head, and asked me if I had any objection
to be in a good thing ? I replied I had not. He said it was a ' Low
Tsbi^,' meaning it was a footpad robbery. I asked when and where, and
440 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAli.
he said he would let me know. We parted, and two days aftiT we met
again, and Saturday, the 6th of November, was appointed. I asked who
was to go with us ? He replied tliat Haggerty had agreed to make one.
We all three met on the Saturday at the Black Horse, when Holloway
said, ' Our business is to sai've a gentleman on Hounslow Heath, who, I
I understand, travels that road with property.' We then drank for about
three or four hours, and about the middle of the day we set off for Houns-
low. We stopped at the Bell public-house, and took some porter. We
proceeded from thence upon the road towards Belfont, and expressed our
hope that we should get a good booty. We stopped near the eleventh
mile-stone, and secreted ourselves in a clump of trees. While there, the
moon got up, and Holloway said we had come too soon. After loitering
about a considerable time, Holloway said lie heard a footstep, and we pro-
ceeded towards Belfont. We presently saw a man coming towards us,
and, on approaching him, we ordered him to stop, which he immediately
did. Holloway went round him, and told him to deliver. He said we
should have his money, and hoped we would not ill-use him. The de-
ceased put his hand in his pocket, and gave Haggerty his money. I
demanded his pocket-book. He replied that he had none. — Holloway
insisted that he had a book, and if he did not deliver it he would knock
him down. I then laid hold of his legs. Holloway stood at his head,
and said if he cried out he would knock out his brains. The de-
ceased again said he hoped we would not ill-use him. Haggerty pro-
ceeded to search him, when the deceased made some resistance, and strug-
gled so much, that we got across the road. He cried out severely ; and,
as a carriage was coming up, Holloway said, with a terrible oatli, ' Take
care, I will silence him ;' and immediately struck him several violent
blows on the head and body. The deceased heaved a deep groan, and
stretched himself out lifeless. I felt alarmed, and said, ' John, you have
killed the man.' Holloway replied that it was a lie, for he was only
stunned. I said I would stay no longer, and immediately set off towards
London, leaving Holloway and Haggerty with the body. I came to
Hounslow, and stopped at the end of the town for near an hour. Holloway
and Haggerty then came up, and said they had done the trick, and as a
token, put the deceased's hat into my hand — The hat Holloway went
down in was like a soldier's hat. I told Holloway it was a cruel piece of
business, and that I was sorry I had any hand in it. We all turned down
a lane, and returned to London. As we came along I asked Holloway il
he had got the pocket-book. He replied it was no matter, for, as I had
refused to share the danger, I should not share the booty. We came to
the Black Horse in Dyot-street, had half a pint of gin, and parted.
Haggerty went down in shoes, but I don't know if he came back in them.
The next day I observed Holloway had a hat upon his head which was
too small for him. I asked him if it was the same he got the preceding
night. He said it was. We met again on the Monday, when I told
Holloway that he acted imprudently in wearing the hat, as it might lead
to a discovery. He put the hat into my hand, and I observed the name
of Steele in it. I repeated my fears. — At night Holloway brought the hat
in a handkerchief, and we went to Westminster-bridge, filled the hat with
stones, and, having tied the lining over it, threw it into the Thames."
The witness, being cross-examined by the counsel for the prisoners, said
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 441
he had made no other minutes of the transactions he had been detaihng
than what his conscience took cognisance of. It was accident that led to
this disclosure. He was talking with other prisoners in Newgate of par-
ticular robberies that had taken place ; and the Hounslow robbery and
murder being stated amongst others, he inadvertently said, that there were
only three persons who knew of that transaction. The remark was circu-
lated and observed upon, and a rumour ran through the prison that he was
about to turn " nose" and he was obliged to hold his tongue, lest he should
be ill-used. — When at Portsmouth, on board the hulks, the com-
punctions of conscience came upon him, and he was obliged to dissipate
his thoughts by drinking, to prevent him from divulging all he knew.
He admitted that he had led a vicious life, that he had been concerned
in several robberies, and had entered and deserted from several regiments.
He had served in the East and West London militias, had enlisted into
the ninth and fourteenth light dragoons, and had been in the army of
reserve. He added that he was ashamed and sorry at what he had been,
and would endeavour to mend his life in future.
Evidence, in corroboration of his statement, with regard to the hat and
boots fitting Holloway, was also given by Mr. Steele's tradespeople, and
the prosecution being closed, the prisoners were called upon to make
their defence.
Haggerty protested that he was completely innocent of the charge, and
was totally unacquainted with the witness, Hanfield. He denied ever
having been at Hounslow, and endeavoured to point out some inconsist-
encies in the evidence which had been adduced.
Holloway declared that he was equally innocent ; but admitted that he
had been at Hounslow more than once ; and that he might have been in
the company of the prisoner Haggerty and Hanfield, although he said that
he was not acquainted with either of them
Mr. Justice Le Blanc summed up the evidence in a very clear and per-
spicuous manner, and the jury having retired for about a quarter of an
hour, returned with a verdict of Guilty against both the prisoners.
The recorder immediately passed sentence in the most solemn and
impressive manner, and the unhappy men were ordered for execution on
the following Monday morning, February the 23rd, 1807,
Tliey went from tlie bar reiterating protestations of their innocence, and
apparently careless of the miserable and ignominious fate that awaited
them.
After conviction Haggerty and Holloway conducted themselves with
the most decided indifference. On Saturday, February 21, the cell-door,
No. 1, in which they were both confined, was opened about half-past two.
They were reading in two prayer-books by candle-light, as the cell was
very dark. On Sunday, neither of them attended the condemned sermon,
and several magistrates interrogated them ; but they still persisted in their
innocence.
During the whole of Sunday night the convicts were engaged in prayer.
They never slept, but broke the awful stillness of midnight by frequent
reciprocal protestations of innocence. At five they were called, dressed,
and shaved, and about seven were brought into the press-yard. There
was some difficulty in knocking off the irons of Haggerty, and he voiim-
lariiy assisted, though he seemed much dejected. A messnge was ^tieu
VOL. I. 3 L
442 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
delivered to the sheriffs, that Holloway wanted to speak with them in
private. This excited very sanguine expectations of confession ; but the
sheriffs, on their return, intimated to the gentlemen in the press-yard, that
Holloway wanted to address tliem publicly ; and therefore requested they
would form themselves into a circle, from the centre of which Holloway
delivered, in the most solemn manner, the following energetic address : —
" Gentlemen, I am quite innocent of this affair. I never was with Han-
field, nor do I know the spot. I will kneel and swear it." He then
knelt down and imprecated curses on his head if he were guilty, and he
concluded by saying, " By God, I am innocent."
Owen Haggerty first ascended the scaffold. His arms were pinioned,
and the halter had been already placed round his neck : he wore a white
cap, and a light olive shag great-coat : he looked downwards, and was
silent. He was attended by a Roman Catholic clergyman, who read to
him, and to whom the unfortunate culprit seemed to pay great attention ;
he made no public acknowledgment of guilt. After the executioner had
tied the fatal noose, he brought up Holloway, who wore a smock frock and
jacket, as it had been stated by the approver that he did at the time of the
murder : he had also a white cap on, was pinioned, and had a halter
round his neck : he had his hat in his hand ; and mounting the scaffold,
he jumped and made an awkward bow, and said, " I am innocent, inno-
cent, by God!" He then turned round, and, bowing, made use of the
same expressions, " Innocent, innocent, innocent ! Gentlemen ! — No ver-
dict ! No verdict! No verdict! Gentlemen. Innocent! innocent!"
At this moment, and while in the act of saying something more, the exe-
cutioner proceeded to do his office, by placing the cap over his face ; to
which he, with apparent reluctance, complied ; at the same time uttering
some words which were not heard. As soon as the rope was fixed round
his neck, he continued quiet. He was attended in his devotions by an
assistant at Rowland Hill's Chapel.
The last that mounted the scaffold was Elizabeth Godfrey. She had
been a woman of the town, aged 34, and had been capitally convicted of
the wilful murder of Richard Prince, in Mary-le-bone parish, on the 25th
of December 1806, by giving him a mortal wound with a pocket-knife in
the left eye, of which wound he languished and died. Immediately on re-
ceiving sentence, this woman's firmness and recollection seemed to fail her,
and she appeared bordering upon a state of frenzy. At the place of execu
tion she was dressed in white, with a close cap, and long sleeves, and was
attended by the Rev. Mr. Ford, the Ordinary of Newgate ; but her feel-
ings appeared to be so much overpowered, that notwithstanding she bore
the appearance of resignation in her countenance, her whole frame was so
shaken by the terror of her situation, that she was incapable of any actual
devotion.
They were all launched off together, at about a quarter after eight. It
was a long time before the body of the poor female seemed to have gone
through its last suffering.
The crowd which assembled to witness this execution was unparalleled,
being, according to the best calculation, near 40,000 ; and the fatal cata-
strophe, which happened in consequence, will cause the day long to be
remembered By eight o'clock, not an inch of ground was unoccupied in
view of the platform, and the pressure of the crowd was so great, that be-
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR 443
fore the malefactors appeared, numbers of persons were crying out in vain
to escape from it. The attempt only tended to increase the confusion, and
several females of low stature, who had been so imprudent as to venture
amono- tlie mob, were in a dismal situation : their cries were dreadful.
Some, who could be no longer supported by the men, were suffered to
fall, and were trampled to death, and this was also the case with several
boys. In all parts there were continual cries of " Murder ! murder !" par-
ticularly from the female part of the spectators and children, some of whom
were seen expiring without the possibility of obtaining the least assistance,
every one being employed in endeavours to preserve his own life. The
most affecting scene of distress was seen at Green Arbour Lane, nearly
opposite the Debtor' s-door. The terrible occurrence which took place near
this spot was attributed to the circumstance of two pie-men attending
there to dispose of tlieir pies, and it appears that one of them having
his basket overthrown, which stood upon a sort of stool upon four legs,
some of the mob, not being aware of wliat had happened, and at the same
time being severely pressed, fell over the basket and the man, at the mo-
ment he was picking it up, together with its contents. Those who fell
were never more suffered to rise, and were soon numbered with the dead.
At this fatal place a man of the name of Herrington was thrown down,
who had in his hand his youngest son, a fine boy, about twelve years of
age. The youth was soon trampled to death ; but the father recovered,
though much bruised, and was amongst the wounded in St. Bartholomew's
Hospital. A woman, who was so imprudent as to bring with her a child
at the breast, was one of the number killed : whilst in the act of falling,
she forced the child into the arms of the man nearest to her, requesting him,
for God's sake, to save its life ; but the man, finding it required all his ex-
ertions to preserve himself, threw the infant from him. It was fortunately
caught at a distance by another man, who, finding it difficult to ensure its
safety or his own, got rid of it in a similar way. The child was then again
caught by a person, who contrived to struggle with it to a cart, under
which he deposited it until the danger was over, and the mob had dis-
persed.
In other parts, the pressure was so great that a horrible scene of confu-
sion ensued, and seven persons lost their lives by suffocation alone. A cart
which was overloaded with spectators broke down, and some of the persons
falling from the vehicle, were trampled under foot and never recovered.
During the hour for which the malefactors hung, little assistance could
be afforded to the unhappy sufferers ; but after the bodies were cut down,
and the gallows removed to the Old Bailey yard, the marshals and consta-
bles cleared the street, and then, shocking to relate, there lay near one
hundred persons dead, or in a state of insensibility, strewed round the
street. Twenty-seven dead bodies were taken to St. Bartholomew's Hos-
pital ; four to St. Sepulchre's church ; one to the Swan on Snow-hill, one
to a public-house opposite St. Andrew's church, Holborn ; one, an appren-
tice, to his master's, Mr. Broadwood, pianoforte maker. Golden- square ; a
mother was seen carrying away the body of her dead boy ; and the body of
Mr, Harrison, a respectable gentleman, was taken to his house at HoUoway.
There was a sailor-boy killed opposite Newgate by suffocation : he carried
a small bag, in which he had some bread and cheese, from which it was
concluded that lie iiad come some distance to witness the execution.
>44 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
After the dead, dying, and wounded, were carried away, there was a
cart-load of shoes, hats, petticoats, and other articles of wearing apparel,
picked up. Until four o'clock in the afternoon, most of the surrounding
liouses contained some persons in a wounded state, who were afterwards
taken away by their friends on shutters, or in hackney-coaches. The
doors of St. Bartholomew's Hospital were closed against the populace, until
after the bodies of the dead were stripped and washed. They were ranged
round a ward on the first floor, on the women's side, and were placed on
the floor with sheets over them, and their clothes put as pillows under their
heads : their faces were uncovered : and a rail was placed along the centre
of the room. The persons who were admitted to see the shocking spec-
tacle went up on one side, and returned on the other. Until two o'clock in
the morning, the entrances to the hospital were beset with persons anxiously
seeking for their lost relatives and friends.
Seldom had such a scene of distress and misery presented itself in this
metropolis. When the gates were opened, a great concourse was admitted ;
and when the yard was full, the gates were again closed, until the first
visitors returned from the scene of woe : as soon as any of the deceased
were recognised, the body was either put into a shell or the face covered
over, with the name of the party written on a paper, and pinned over the
body.
The next day (Tuesday) a coroner's inquest sat in St. Bartholomew's
Hospital, and other places where the bodies were, on the remains of the
suflTerers. Several witnesses were examined with respect to the circum-
stances of the accident ; and on Friday, wlien the inquest terminated, the
verdict was, " Tiiat the several persons came by their death from compres-
sion and suffocation."
GEORGE ALLEN.
EXECUTED FOR THE MURDER OF HIS THREE CHILDREN.
There can be little doubt that the horrid off'ence committed by this
wretched man was prompted by insanity ; and it is surprising that a jury
should have found him guilty of the crime imputed to him, without
declaring this to be their opinion.
It appeared on his trial, which took place at Stafford in the month of
March 1807, that on the evening of the 12th of January, he retired to rest
with his wife, and that in about an hour the latter was awoke by her
finding her husband sitting upright in bed, smoking a pipe. In
another bed in the same room lay three of his infant children asleep, the
eldest boy about ten years old, the second, a girl, about six, and another
boy about three, and Mrs. Allen also had an infant at her breast. On his
perceiving his wife to be awake, the prisoner demanded to know " what
other man she had in the house with her ; " to which she answered " that
there was no man there but himself." He, however, insisted to the con-
trary, and jumped out of bed, and ran down stairs. His wife followed
him ; but he returned, and meeting her on the stairs, bade her go back.
He then went to the bed where his children were, and turned down the
clothes. On her endeavouring to hold him, he told her "to let him alone.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 445
or he would serve her the same sauce," and immediately attempted to
cut her throat, in which he partly succeeded, and also wounded her right
breast ; but a handkerchief she wore about her head and neck prevented
the wound from being fatal. She then extricated herself (having the babe
in her arms all the time, which she preserved unhurt), and jumped, or
rather fell, down stairs ; but before she could well rise from the ground,
one of the children (the girl) fell at her feet, with its head nearly cut otf",
which her wretched husband had murdered and thrown after her. The
woman opened the door, and screamed out " that her husband was cutting
off their children's heads ;" and a neighbour shortly came to her assistance ;
and a light having been procured, the monster was found standing in the
middle of the house-place, with a razor in his hand. He was asked what
he had been doing ; when he replied coolly, " Nothing yet ; I have only
killed three of them." On their going up stairs, a most dreadful spectacle
presented itself : the head of one of the boys was very nearly severed from
his body, and the bellies of both were partly cut and partly ripped open,
and the bowels torn completely out and thrown on the floor. Allen made
no attempt to escape, and was taken without resistance. He said that it
was his intention to murder his wife and all her children, and then to have
put an end to himself. He also declared that lie meant to have murdered
an old woman who lay bed -ridden in the same house.
An inquest was subsequently held on the bodies of the three children,
before Mr. Hand, coroner, of Uttoxeter, when the miserable man confessed
his guilt, but without expressing any contrition. He promised also to
confess something that had lain heavily on his mind ; and Mr. Hand, sup-
posing it might relate to a crime he had before committed, caused him to
be examined in the presence of other gentlemen, when he told an incoherent
story of a ghost, in the shape of a horse, having about four years before
enticed him into a stable, where it drew blood from hiin, and then flew
into the sky. With respect to the murder of his children, he observed
to the coroner, with apparent unconcern, that he supposed " it was as bad
a case as ever he heard of."
The horrid circumstances of these murders having been fully proved, he
was convicted, and suffered the final sentence of the law at Stafford, March
;30th 1807.
MARTHA ALDEN.
EXECUTED FOR THE MURDER OF HER HUSBAND.
Of the numerous instances which we have already adduced, wherein
women have committed that very worst of all crimes, the murder of their
husbands, perhaps no case has been attended with more malice, art, and
cruelty, than that of Martha Alden.
Her trial for this offence came on at the Summer Assizes for the county
of Norfolk, in the year 1807
From the evidence adduced, it appeared that the deceased was a labour-
ing man of rather diminutive stature, and lived with the prisoner in a
small cottage near Attleburgh, in Norfolk. On the night of Saturday the
lJ3th of July, the deceased and his wife were in company with a man
named Draper at the White Horse public -house, Attleburgh, drinking
446 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
together, and about ten o'clock the prisoner went away, saying she
should go home. At twelve o'clock Draper conducted Alden. who was
slightly intoxicated, to his own door, and left him there with the prisoner.
In the morning, at about three o'clock, a man named Hill was passing the
prisoner's house on his way to see a relation at about ten miles off, when
the prisoner accosted him, saying that " She could not think what smart
young man it was going down the common." A short conversation ensued,
in which the prisoner said that " she had not returned long from the town,
where she had been drinking with her husband and Draper, and that her
husband had then gone, she did not know where, but that she thought he
had gone to a brother of his, who lived in Essex." It was remarked by
Hill, " that he knew that Alden had let himself to Mr. Parson for the
harvest," to which the prisoner assented, but said that she knew he would
never come back, and that if he got a job he would never settle to it.
Between six and seven o'clock the prisoner was met in the road by Mr.
Parson, a farmer, accompanied by a young woman named Orrice, when she
said that she had lost her husband, and expressing herself very unhappy
about him, declared her belief that he was either murdered or drowned,
and on the following morning she was again seen by the same person, when
she said that she had walked above thirty miles in search of him, but could
not find him. On the Monday evening the prisoner borrowed a spade
from a neighbour named Leeder, with an alleged intention of mending her
hedge, which had been destroyed by pigs, which had got in and rooted up
her potatoes; and one having been lent to her, she went away, and was
afterwards seen at work in the ditch surrounding her garden. Up to this
time no traces of her husband had been discovered; but on Tuesday night
Mrs. Leeder went to a pond on the common to look for some ducks, which
she had missed, and having found them, she was on her way home, when
she remarked something in a large pit or pond, which lay in her path. She
went to the edge of the pond, and touched the object with a stick, and it
sank and rose again; but although the moon shone, she could not distin-
guish what it was, and she went home. Her curiosity, however, having
been raised, she returned to the spot on the following morning, and then
she again touched the substance with a stick, on which it turned over, and
to her terror, she saw two hands appear, the arms being clothed in a shirt,
which was stained with blood. The alarm was immediately given, and
the body being taken out, it proved to be that of the prisoner's husband.
It was covered only with an old coat, with a slop or shirt over it, and the
head appeared to be dreadfully mangled. The face was much chopped,
and the head nearly cut off, and otlier injuries were inflicted, which could
not have been done by the unfortunate deceased himself. The body wag
immediately conveyed in a cart to the house of the prisoner, who was
taken into custody. On her house being examined, the bedding and bed
were found to be smeared with blood, and the walls of the bed-room bore
marks of their having been spattered with the same fluid, but partly
washed. Two sacks, also bloody, were discovered concealed under a peat-
stack, and from a dark cupboard was produced a bill-hook with which the
foul deed was evidently perpetrated, and from which the blood had been
only partially removed. On the garden being searched, a species of grave
was found to have been dug about forty yards from the house, and at the
spot where the prisoner had been seen at work, sufl&ciently broad and long
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 447
to receive the body of the deceased, but only about eighteen inches deep.
In addition, liv^wever, to these facts, tlie testimony of the girl Orrice, whose
name had been already mentioned, was procured.
She stated that she had been acquainted with the prisoner a good while,
and had frequently been at her house. On Sunday (the 19th) the prisoner
Asked her to go with her to her house; and when she got there, the pri-
soner said to her, " I have killed my husband;" and, taking her into the
bed-room, showed her the body lying on the bed, quite dead, with the
wounds as before described: her account of the state and appearance of the
room perfectly coincided with the descriptions of the former witnesses; she
also saw a hook lying on the floor all bloody: when the hook was shown
to her in court, she said it was the very same she had then seen. The pri-
soner then produced a common corn-sack, and, at her request, the witness
held it whilst the prisoner put the body into it; the prisoner then carried
the body from the bed-room, througli the passage and kitchen, out of the
house, across the road to the ditch surrounding the garden, and left it there,
after throwing some mould over it. The witness then left tlie prisoner, and
went to Larling; and the prisoner slept that night at the witness's father's
house. On the following night, between nine and ten o'clock, the witness
was again in company with the prisoner, and saw her remove the body of
her husband from the ditch of the garden to the pit on the common, drag-
ging it herself along the ground in the sack ; and, when arrived at tlie pit,
the prisoner shot the body into it out of the sack, which she afterwards
carried away with her: the deceased had a shirt and slop on. The pri-
soner said nothing to her at the time, and she went home. The next morn-
ing (Tuesday) the witness went to tlie prisoner's house, and assisted in
cleaning it up, taking some warm water, and washing and scraping the
wall next the bed. The prisoner took up some loose straw, and told the
witness she would carry and throw it into Mr. Parson's ditch, because it
was bloody. The prisoner bade the witness to be sure not to say a word
about the matter; for, if she did, she (the witness) would certainly be
lianged. Upon being questioned to that efiect by the judge, this witness
further stated that she had told the story to her father on the Tuesday
night, and to nobody else.
On his lordship asking the jDrisoner what she had to say in her defence,
she told an incoherent story, which, however, as far as it was at all intelli-
gible, seemed rather to aim at making the testimony of the last witness ap-
pear contradictory and suspicious, and to implicate her in the guilt of the
transaction, than to deny the general charges which had been adduced
against herself.
The learned judge then summed up the evidence in a very full and able
manner, and the jury returned a verdict of Guilty.
The prisoner was immediately sentenced to death. Her behaviour sub-
sequently was becoming the awful situation in which she was placed.
She confessed the justice of her conviction, and admitted that she had
murdered her husband with the bill-hook. She declared, however, that it
was not the result of premeditated malice, but that her husband having
threatened to beat her, the thought came into her head when he lay down
to go to sleep.
She was drawn on a hurdle to the place of execution on the Castle-hill,
on the 3 1st of July 1807, and there underwent the punishment of death
bursuant to her sentence.
448 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
JOHN PALMER.
EXECUTED FOR BURGLAPY.
This prisoner, although at the time of his execution he was only
twenty-three years of age, was, nevertheless, an old offender, and richly
merited the fate which befel him.
He was indicted at the Old Bailey sessions, in September 1808, for
having, on the 8th of the same month, feloniously assaulted William
Waller ; and for having with a certain sharp instrument, which he held in
his right hand, stabbed and cut him in and upon his head, with intent
in so doing to kill and murder him. In another indictment he was
charged with burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of
Henry Kimpton, with intent to steal, and stealing therein a pair of snuffers.
The facts wliich were proved in evidence were, that the house in ques-
tion was situated at No. :20, Manchester -square, and that, being furnished
and unoccupied. Waller was placed in it, to take care of it, by Mr.
Kimpton, who was an auctioneer. On the 8th of September, at about
four o'clock in the afternoon, Waller went out, having previously carefully
shut up the doors and windows of the house, and he did not return until
near twelve o'clock at night. He then found the house, to all appearance,
undisturbed ; but upon his going up to the room in which he slept, which
was on the garret floor, he perceived that his bed was in disorder. He
was in the act of turning round to ascertain whether any person was in the
adjoining apartment, when he was suddenly seized from behind by a man,
whom he presently saw was the prisoner. He cried, " Lord have mercy
upon me ;" but the prisoner said, " Do not speak a word ; lie down on the
bed, that is all you have to do ;" and then pushing him, threw him on his
face on his bed. At this moment a second man, v^-hom the prisoner called
Joseph, made his appearance, and AValler attempting to offer some resist-
ance, they threatened him with instant death. He, however, continued to
struggle ; and having at length, extricated himself from the grasp of the
prisoner, he was running towards the window to give an alarm, when he
was suddenly felled to the ground by a tremendous blow on the head from
an iron crowbar. He managed to rise and open the window, and cry
" murder," but he was again violently assailed ; but tlien the people below
having called to him to go down and open the door, he managed to escape,
and run down into the passage. He was pursued by the prisoner, whom
however he missed on his reaching the ground floor ; and he was
employed in opening the street door, when the people without, who had
been alarmed by his cries, suddenly burst it in upon him, and knocked him
down. At this moment the prisoner was seen to ascend the area steps, and
to jump over the gate into the street, and being seized, he declared that he
belonged to the house, and that they were trying to murder the man up
stairs ; but Waller was by this time sufficiently recovered to recognise
him, and having informed the mob, which had by this time assembled,
that he was the person by whom he had been so violently attacked, he was
handed over to the custody of a watchman. All search after his compa-
nion having proved fruitless, the prisoner was carried to tlie watcli-house,
and then on his being searched, a phosphorus box with matches was found
in ills possession, aud a paper bearing the following memorandum : — "• No
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 4} 9
13, E'l ward -street, and a house in Harley-street ; No. 30, Oxford-street,
and No. 20, ]Manchester-.square done." A pair of snuifers, which was
proved to have been taken from Mr. Kimpton's house, was also taken from
him, besides a hirge buncli of picklock and skeleton keys.
The prisoner, when called on for his defence, denied that he was the
person who had escaped from the house, and declared that having come up
with the crowd upon hearing the outcry, he had picked up the snuffers and
keys, which were found upon him. He said that he had served in the
navy, and had only returned seven months from the Mediterranean station,
where he had been a seaman on board the Lion, Captain RoUes.
His protestations of innocence were, however, vain, and the jury returned
a verdict of Guilty on both indictments.
Sentence of death was subsequently passed in the usual form ; and of all
those prisoners who by their crimes subjected themselves to condign
punishment, and who were tried at these sessions, Palmer was the only one
who was ordered for execution. In the course of the time which inter-
vened between his conviction and the termination of his career, he gave
evident proofs of his wicked disposition, and of the justice with which he was
selected as the object upon whom capital punishment should be inflicted.
A few weeks before his execution he formed a plan of escape, which, had
it been fully carried out, would have involved him in the additional guilt
of murder. Finding it necessary to procure the aid of a fellow-prisoner, he
selected a fellow who was also under sentence of death, to whom he com-
municated his project, and he at once consented to participate in his dan-
ger, in the hope of sharir.g in his success. It was arranged that tlie plot
should be put into execution on tlie Sunday following. Palmer and his
associate having then excused themselves from attending chapel, whither
the other prisoners and the principal turnkeys would have gone, on the
score of illness, they were to attack the gaoler, whose duty it would be to
attend upon them, and having deprived him of life and possessed them-
selves of his keys, they were to make the best of their way to the outer
gate. Here they were aware that they should meet with another gaoler ;
but having overcome him by threats or by main force, they were to secure
their escape to the street, where their friends would be in attendance to
receive them. In order to further their design, Palmer had already fur-
nished himself with spring saws, to remove their irons; and rope ladders had
also been provided, to be used in case of any further impediment presenting
itself to them, and by which they would be able to scale the walls.
So far as its arrangement, the plot had gone on with perfect success,
when Palmer's companion, being conscience-stricken at the crime which
was contemplated, communicated all that had been determined on to Mr.
Newman, the keeper of the prison, and proper means were in consequence
taken for the security of the prisoners.
Palmer finding himself thus foiled in his object, which he had enter-
tained sanguine hopes that he should have been able to accomplish, now
proceeded to apply himself to those duties which he had hitherto neglected.
As the period approached for his execution, he expressed himself anxious
that the time allowed him for preparation should be prolonged; but his
wish being conveyed to the Government by 3Ir. Sheriff Hunter, it was
determined that it could not be acceded to, and the law was directed tc
take its course.
VOL. I. 3 M
450 TIIR NEW NEAVGATE CALENDAR.
Wednesday, 23rd of November, 180S, having been fixed for the termi-
nation of his life, on that morning his sentence was carried out. On his
way to the scaffold he was attended by Dr, Ford, the ordinary of the jail,
to whom he confessed the justice of his punishment. He appeared to be
perfectly resigned to his fate, and expressed a hope that his death Vi'ould
be an (>xaniple to others. In order to atone for his own errors, he made a
full confession of every robbery and burglary in which he had been con-
cerned, and gave many particulars of the practices and haunts of thieves,
which subsequently proved extremely useful to the police. When on the
scaffold, he attempted to address the mob ; but his speech failed him, and
his eyes having been covered with a silk handkerchief at his own request,
the drop fell at the usual signal, and in a few minutes he ceased to live.
THOMAS SIMMONS.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
The offence of this miscreant was of a most horribly atrocious nature.
It appears that he was the son of poor parents, but being thought to be
a likely lad, he was taken into the service of a ]\Ir. Boreham, who lived at
Hoddesden, at an early period of his life. He continued in this situa-
tion for several years; but on his reaching the age of nineteen years, he
was dismissed on account of his brutal ferocity of disposition, which had
displayed itself on various occasions. He had, it appears, paid his ad-
dresses to Elizabeth Harris, the servant in the house, who was many years
older than he ; but, by the advice of her mistress, the woman declined
havino- anything to say to him. In consequence of this circumstance, the
villain vowed veno-eance against the servant and her mistress, and on the
afternoon of the 20th of October, 1807, he proceeded to his late master's to
satisfy his revenge in a manner most horrible and atrocious. There were
at the time of his going to the house, Mr. and Mrs. Boreham and their
four dauo-hters in the building, besides a Mrs. Hummerstone and the
servant, Elizabeth Harris. About a quarter past nine at night, the party
sittino- in the parlour was alarmed by hearing a loud noise of voices at
the back part of the house, and upon listening they heard Simmons
disputing with the servant, and demanding admittance. This was, how-
ever, refused, and presently afterwards the former plunged his hand, armed
with a knife, through the lattice- window, and attempted to stab the girl,
but without success. Mrs. Hummerstone on this went to the scullery,
from which the noise proceeded, and opening the door, found that
Simmons had penetrated through the farm-yard, and was within the
stone-yard. On her opening the door, he suddenly rushed at her, and
with his knife stabbed her in the jugular artery, and, pulling the knife
forward, laid open her throat on the left side. She ran forward, as is
supposed for the purpose of alarming the neighbourhood, but fell, and rose
no more.
The murderer then pursued his sanguinary purpose, and rushing into
the parlour, raised and brandished his bloody knife, swearing a dreadful
oath, that " he would give it them all." Mrs. AVarner, JMr. Boreham'a
eldest dauc^hter, was the person next him ; and, without allowing her time
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. •^'^l
to rise from her chair, he gave her so many stabs in the jugular vein, and
about her neck and breast, that she fell from her chair, covered with
streams of blood, and expired. Fortunately Miss Anne Boreham had gone
np stairs, directly before the commencement of this horrid business ;
and her sisters, Elizabeth and Sarah, terrified at tlie horrors they saw, ran
up stairs too, for safety.
The villain immediately afterwards attacked the aged Mrs. Boreham^
by a similar aim at her jugular artery, but missed the point, and wounded
lier deep in the neck, though not mortally. The poor old gentleman was
now making his way towards the kitchen, where the servant-maid was ;
but the miscreant pursued him, and in endeavouring to reach the same
place, overset him, and then endeavoured to stab the servant in the throat:
she struggled with him, caught at tlie knife, and was wounded severely in
tiie hand and arm, and the knife fell in the struggle. The girl, liowever,
escaped from his grasp, and running into the street, by her screams and
cries of " murder," she alarmed the whole neighbourhood. Several persons
instantly came to her assistance, and whilst some offered their aid to the
unhappy beings who had been wounded, others sought for the mur-
derer. Their search was for some time in vaia, but they at length
succeeded in discovering him concealed in a cow-crib in the farm-yard. He
was immediately secured, and so tightly bound to prevent his escape, that
the circulation was almost stopped, and in the night death was near
cheating Justice of her victim. The ligatures were, however, loosed in
the morning, in ample time to preserve him to undergo the punishment to
which his crimes had subjected him.
Upon the attendance of two professional men, they found that all
attempts to assist Mrs. Warner and Mrs. Hummerstone would be useless,
as they were already dead ; and they directly turned their attention to
Mrs. Boreham and the servant. Mr. Boreham was found lying on the
ground with a poker by his side ; but being afflicted with the palsy, and
being besides very aged, he had been unable to use it in opposition to his
assailant.
A coroner's inquest was subsequently held upon the bodies of the
deceased persons, and a verdict of " Wilful Murder" was returned against the
prisoner, upon which he was committed to Hertford Jail to await his trial.
Mr. Boreham being a Quaker, he refused to prosecute in the case of Mrs.
Warner; but an indictment was preferred in the case of Mrs. Hummerstone,
upon which the prisoner was ari-aigned at the Hertford Assizes on the 4th
of March, 1808. The above facts having been proved in evidence, as well
as the additional circumstance of the prisoner having confessed his guilt
when before the coroner, and of his having declared that his intention
was to murder Mrs. Boreham, Mrs. Warner, and Elizabeth Harris the
servant, a verdict of Guilty was returned.
The awful sentence of death was then pronounced upon him, and he was
hanged on the 7th of JMarch, 1808, having exhibited throughout the whole
transaction the utmost coolness and indifference.
452 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENO/J<.
ALEXANDER CAMPBELL, ESQ.
EXECUTED FOR A MURDE?. COMMITTED IX A UCEL.
This is a case arising out of an absurd deference being paid to the lawg
of honour.
Alexander Campbell was tried at the Armagh Assizes, in Ireland,
August 13, 1808, for the wilful murder of Alexander Boyd, captain
in the 21st regiment, by shooting him with a pistol-bullet, on the 23rd
day of June, 1807. The evidence was, that the prisoner was major, and
the deceased captain of the 21st regiment of Foot; and that on the
22nd of June, after the mess-dinner, a dispute arose between them, which
was terminated by the prisoner inquiring, " Do you say I am wrong ? "
and the deceased answering, " Yes, I do." Major Campbell then retired,
and went and took tea with his family ; and he afterwards sent a message
to Captain Boyd upon the provocation given, in conseqiience of which
they met. Being unattended by friends, the immediate circumstances
which attended the duel were not proved in evidence ; but it appears that
Captain Boyd being wounded. Lieutenant Macpherson, Surgeon Price, and
others were called to his assistance, in whose presence he said to the pri-
soner, " You have hurried me 1 wanted you to wait and have friends
Campbell, you are a bad man !" He afterwards died, and upon bis
body being examined, it was found that he had received a pistol-shot, and
that the bullet had penetrated the extremity of the four false ribs, and
lodged in the cavity of the belly, which was the cause of his death. These
facts having been proved, the learned judge summed up, and the prisoner
was found guilty of the capital offence, but recommended to mercy by the
jury, on the score of good character alone ; several persons of distinction
in the army having attended, and declared that he was generally of a
humane, peaceable disposition.
Sentence of death was, however, immediately passed on the unfortunate
gentleman, and he was ordered for execution on the Monday ; but, in con-
sequence of the recommendation of the jury, was respited till the Wednes-
day se'nnight.
In the mean time, every effort was made by the friends of the unfortunate
man to procure the royal mercy. ]\Irs. Campbell, his lady, departed
immediately for England to solicit in person the royal clemency ; and the
grand jury of the county, and the jury who had found him guilty, pre-
sented petitions to the lord-lieutenant of Dublin. Mrs. Campbell, after
the most incredible fatigue and exertion, reached England, and procured
her petition to be delivered into the hands of his majesty. The respite,
however, expired on the 2;3rd of August, and an order was sent from
Dublin Castle to Armagh, for the execution to take place on the 24th.
Tiie prisoner's deportment during the whole of the melancholy interval
between his condemnation and the day of his execution, was manly, but
penitent — such as became a Christian towards his approaching dissolution.
When he was informed that all efforts to procure a pardon had failed, he
was only anxious for the imm.ediate execution of the sentence. He had
repeatedly implored that he might be shot ; but as this was not suitable to
the forms of the common law^ his entreaties were of course without succe:>s.
I
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 4.')3
He was led out for execution on Wednesday, the 24tli of August, 18U8,
just as the ch)ck struck twelve. lie was attended by Dr. Bowie, and in
tlu! whole of his deportment was manifest a pious resignation and a peni-
tent mind. A vast crowd had collected around the scene of the catastro-
phe : he surveyed them a moment, then turned his head towards Heaven
with a look of prayer. As soon as he appeared, the whole of the attending
guards, and such of the soldiery as were spectators, took off their caps ;
upon which the major saluted them in turn. The spectacle was truly
distressing, and tears and shrieks burst from several parts of the crowd.
When the executioner approached to fix the cord, Major Campbell again
looked up to Heaven. There was now the most profound silence. The
executioner seemed paralysed whilst performing this last act of his duty,
and there was scarcely a dry eye out of so many thousands assembled;
every aspect wore the trace of grief.
After hanging the usual time, the body was put into a hearse in waiting,
which left the town immediately, to convey the last remains of the unfor-
tunate gentleman to the family depository at Ayr, in Scotland. The
catastropjhe is rendered still mure melancholy by the unhappy circumstance
that Mrs. Campbell had indulged her hopes to the last, and left London
exactly at such a period of time as to arrive at Ayr on the day on which
her husband's corpse would necessarily have reached that place.
JOHN RYAN AND MATTHEW KEARINGE.
EXECUTED FOR ARSON AND MURDER.
The scene described by the witnesses in this case well depicts some of
the horrors to which the inhabitants of the Sister Kingdom are occasionally
subject.
At the Lent Clonmel Assizes for the year 1808, John Ryan and Mat-
thew Kearinge were indicted for the murder of David Bourke; in a second
count, with the murder of John Dougherty; in a third, with setting fire
to the house of Laui-ence Bourke; and in a fourth, with maliciously tiring
at Laurence Bourke, with intent to kill him.
After the solicitor-general had opened the case, he called Laurence
Bourke, the prosecutor, who stated that on the night of the J 1th of
October, between the hours of ten and eleven o'clock, he was informed
l)y his servant that there were a number of men in arms advancing towards
his house. In consequence of this information he went to the window„
and saw the prisoners, with several others, all armed, surrounding his
liouse : they desired him to open the door, but he refused ; and they then
fired several shots in through the different windows. There were in the
house, Dougherty, the deceased, a man who was servant to the witness,
and witness's wife and child ; they were armed, but had no ammunition
but what the guns were loaded with. The prisoners and the party finding
they could not get into the house, set it on fire ; and the witness heard the
jirisoner Ryan say, " Take it easy, boys; you will see what botlings we
shall have by-and-by." — The witness's wife and child then went to the
window, and called out to Ryan (who was her relation) not to burn the
house ; but he replied, with an oath, that he would ; and a shot was fired
454 THE KEW MEAVGATE CALENDAR.
at her, which though it did not take effect, frightened her so much,
that she and her child fell out of the window. They were seized by
the prisoner Kearinge ; but they afterwards fortunately made their escape.
The house was now foiling in flames about the witness's head, and he
therefore opened the door and ran out : several shots were fired at him,
but he escaped them, and made his way to David Bourke's, his father's
house. In his flight he fired his piece, and killed one of Ryan's party.
When witness arrived at his father's house, he found that he had gone to
the assistance of the witness ; and on returning to the place where his
house stood, in search of his father, he found that Ryan and his party
were gone, and his father's corpse was lying about twelve yards from the
smoking ruins of his dwelling.
Winnifred Kennedy and other witnesses were examined, who corrobo-
rated the testimony of Bourke, and proved that tlie deceased, John
Dougherty, was burned in Bourke's house. It was also proved that the
whole of Ryan's party were entertained by him at dinner that day, and
they all left his house armed, for the purpose of attacking Bourke.
On the part of the prisoner Ryan, an alibi was attempted to be proved
by a woman who lived with him, which entirely failed ; and, after a very
minute charge from the learned judge, the jury brought in a verdict of
Guilty against both the pristmers. They were executed accordingly.
JAMES COOPER.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
At the Summer Assizes at Croydon, in the year 1809, James Cooper
and ]\Iary Cooper, his mother, aged seventy-one years, were indicted for
the wilful murder of Joseph Hollis, at Compton, in the county of Surrey,
on the 4th May preceding. The first count in the indictment alleged
the murder to have been committed by fracturing the skull of the deceased,
and the second count stated the cause of death to have been a wound in
the throat.
This case was of a rather singular nature, and depended on circum-
stances, which were proved by a number of dift'erent witnesses ; and the
investigation lasted nearly the wdiole day. The deceased was a man pos-
sessing more property than is usual with persons in his class of life. He
lived in a small cottage adjoining that occupied by the prisoners, and
which, with the prisoners', had been formerly but one house. It had
lately been divided into two tenements, the one being occupied by the
deceased, and the other by the two prisoners. There was no door of com-
munication between the two tenements ; but it was proved, that whatever
passed in one could be distinctly heard in the other ; and, as one of the
witnesses stated, the clock could be heard to tick.
The deceased, Hollis, was an old man of near seventy, but was hale and
hearty; he was of very penurious habits, and had saved money, which he
was fond of displaying. One of the witnesses described him as always
carrying three canvas bags, in one of which he kept notes, in another gold
and silver, and in a third copper money; and if he wanted to pay only a
sixpence, he would tip all the gold and silver into his hand ; and the
I
THE NEAV NEWGATE CALENDAR. 455
•witness added, that he had seen him with 100/. in his possession. The
whole cottage in which he lived was his property, and the prisoner,
Cooper, was his tenant for the part which he occupied. Nobody lived in
Cooper's part but himself and liis mother : and HoUis, tlie deceased, lived
alone ; a woman of the name of Wisdom going to him daily to complete
his little household arrangements.
On Wednesday, the -ird of May, the day preceding Guildford fair, he
had desired a person of the name of Goddard to go with him to the fair,
as he wanted to buy some sheep; Goddard told him he could not go with
him, but advised him to be early. On this he declared his intention of
breakfasting and setting off the next morning by four o'clock; and having
stated this to ]\Iary Wisdom, he told her that she need not come to him
on the next day. She, therefoi'e, did not on the Thursday make her daily
visit ; but on the Friday, about ten, she sent her daughter, a girl about
thirteen years of age. The child found the door unfastened ; and, on
opening it, she saw HoUis lying dead on the floor, with a great deal of
blood about him. She ran out, and saw Moor, the constable, crossing the
common, and he immediately returned with her. A surgeon was sent for,
and several people soon came. The body was lying on the floor with the
legs crossed, and the head lying on the arm, evidently composed to that
attitude by the murderer after the deed. A cup of coffee, half drunk, was
on the table, a piece of toast before the fire, another piece, partly eaten,
lay on the hearth, the butter bason was broken, and the pat of butter was
on the floor near the feet of tlie deceased. The chair in which he had been
sitting was overturned, and his hat was lying near, so that it appeared
that he had been attacked Avhile he was sitting at his breakfast. The
body was most shockingly mangled, the skull was fractured in two places,
the jaw broken, a finger broken, the arms bruised, and the throat cut so
as almost to sever the head from the body. Under, the body was found
a clasp-knife, almost covered with blood, and a poker in a similar con-
dition. From these circumstances it appeared that some struggle must
have taken place, which the prisoners must have heard in their cottage, if
the miirder had been committed by any stranger.
The prisoners were, therefore, apprehended on the Friday evening, and
their part of the cottage searched ; but no evidence of their guilt was
found. The trunk of the deceased had been rummaged ; and, as only two
shillings were found on his person, it was presumed that the murderer had
carried off his money.
The magistrates, on examination, finding nothing but suspicion against
the prisoners, discharged them ; but on subsequent inquiries, they were
again apprehended, and the following circumstances were given in evidence.
The r.iglit before the murder the deceased and the prisoner, James Cooper,
had been quarrelling ; upon which the deceased declared, as Cooper ha<l
not paid his rent, he would have him out of the cottage ; and he actually
applied to a person to disti'ain upon him. In this quarrel. Cooper was
heai'd to vow vengeance against the old man, swearing that he would be
"up side" with him before a fortnight was over. JMrs. Cooper exclaimed
"God forbid!" but presently she said, that it would not much matter,
for that nobody liked the old man. Since the former examination of the
prisoners, a more minute survey of their cottage had been taken, and
concealed in the roof were found various articles of apparel, belonging to
4.">6 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
til'" male prisoner, which were smeared Avith blood. Upon subsequent
Inquiry, the knife and poker found in old Hollis' house were also discovered
to have belonged to the Coopers, and little doubt remained therefore ol
their being parties to the murder.
The prisoners were eventually committed to take their trials, and while
in custody Mrs. Cooper confessed that she knew of tlie murder, after its
commission by her son, but she denied that she was in any way a party
to the foul deed. She stated that her son had gone out in the evening in
question, carrying tlie knife and poker with him, and that soon afterwards
she heard a noise in old Plollis' house, followed by cries for help, and pre-
sently a heavy fall against the wainscot, but beyond this siieknew nothing.
Upon this evidence the male prisoner was found guilty, but his mother
was acquitted.
The unhappy young man immediately received sentence of death, and
was executed on the following Monday, confessing the justice of his sentence
and punishment.
JOSEPH BROWN.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
This case affords a striking instance of the wonderful effect of the
workings of the conscience of a guilty man.
Josejih Brown was indicted at the York Assizes in the month of March
1809, for the wilful murder of Elizabetli Fletcher at Hensal, near Ferry
bridge, in the month of October, in the year 1804.
The offence was alleged to have been committed by the administration
of poison to the deceased woman by the prisoner, and a companion named
Hazlegrove, both of whom, at the time of the occurrence, lodged in her
house. The evidence with regard to the transaction was, that on the
Sunday, the 21st October 1804, the prisoner, Hazlegrove, Elizabeth
Fletcher, the deceased, and her sister Sarah, were all sitting together at
supper, between eight and nine o'clock at night, and tliat Hazlegrove went
to fetch some ale. On his return Brown put some sugar into it, and gave
it to the deceased, and she and her sister drank the whole of it, while
Brown and Hazlegrove refused to partake of it, but drank some out of
another mug. In the course of the night the prisoner and his companion
absconded, and nothing more was heard of them untd the apprehension of
the prisoner in the Isle of Wight, on the 3rd of August 1808 ; and in the
morning ^Irs. Fletcher was found to be dead, and her sister suffering
severely from the effects of laudanum. It was proved that jNIrs. Fletcher
was known to be in the possession of a considerable sum of money, and
tliat the prisoner had expressed a wish that he had it ; and that on the
Saturday the 20th of October, he had purchased sixpennyworth of lau-
danum of 3Ir. Perkins, a surgeon at Snaith, to whom he represented, that
it was for the use of his father, who was unable to get any sleep. The
death of the deceased it could not be doubted had been produced by
laudanum.
The additional evidence, by which it was proposed to bring home the
offence to the prisoner, was a confession, which he had made at the Isle of
Wight, in the month of August preceding his trial, when he surrendered
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 4r)7
himself into custody, as he said at the time, on account of the angnistii
j)roduct'd in his mind, on his reflecting iipon the dreadful crime of which
he had heen guilty. In his confession, he stated that he had been
acquainted with Joseph Ilazlegrove upwards of six years ; that in the
Hjonth of October 1804, he and Joseph Hazlcgrove lodged with Mrs.
Fletcher of Ilcnsal, near Ferrybridge, and there formed tlie design of
poisoning her, in order to possess themselves of some property they sup-
posed her to possess ; that for tliis purpose, he procured six-pennyworth
of laudanum of a ]\Ir. Perkins, of Snaitli, which he gave to llazlegrove,
who mixed it with some beer, along with some sugar, and gave it to
Elizabeth Fletcher and her sister ; the former died in consequence of it,
and early the following morning they broke open her box, and took out
one guinea and a half, with which they absc(mded. The prisoner, it
appeared, had been since subjected to prosecution, on account of some
offence of which he had been guilty, but had been permitk^d to enter a
foot regiment, in which he was still a soldier at the time of his trial.
On his being called on for liis defence, he declared, with the most con-
summate impudence, that his confession was untrue; and that his only object
in making that statement was, by putting himself upon his trial, to clear up
the suspicions which were entertained against him. He then went on to
say, that his acquaintance with llazlegrove had subsisted from an earlier
period than he had represented, down to the time of his trial ; and that
they had always lived upon terms of the closest intimacy. Tiiat in the
early part of their friendship, a lady of high rank and fortune had become
enamoured of his friend, and that many interesting meetings had taken
place between them. lie was generally employed as the go-between ; and
the secrecy which they were compelled to observe upon this subject gave
a,n air of mystery to their conduct, which caused them to be spoken of
with suspicion ; and at length so far had the malignity of their enemies
been excited against them, that they were accused of every offence which
liappened to be committed within a circuit of several miles! He concluded
by repeating his declaration as to tlie object which he had in view, in
surrendering himself into custody, suggesting that the death of IMrs.
Fletcher might have been occasioned by a fit, and protesting his entire
innocence of the crime imputed to him.
He declined calling any witnesses to substantiate the allegations which
he made, however, and a verdict of guilty was returned.
The learned Judge then proceeded to pass sentence of death upon the
prisoner, whom he addressed in the following terms : —
" Joseph Brown, I am called upon, in the painful exercise of my duty,
to pass sentence upon a person found guilty of one of the greatest offences
against society — the crime of deliberate murder. You stand an awful and
striking example of the justice of Providence — of that punishment, which,
sooner or later, never fails to overtake the guilty. You have been com-
pelled by the agonies of remorse, and the upbraidings and tortures of a
guilty mind, to furnish that evidence against yourself, which was wanting
to establish the proof of your guilt, and to supply that link in the chain
(if evidence which appeared to be imperfect. I trust, that every one who
hears of your fate will bear in mind, that a time will arrive, probably in this
world, most certainly in another, when guilt will meet with its due ])unish-
ment. In your unhappy case, that jieriod is already come, when you must
VOL. I. 3 N
4.'>vS THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
receive tlie reward of your crimes. Impelled by the hope of posse?sing the
treasure wliich you supposed your unfortunate victim had saved from her
hard earnings, yovA deliberately formed the design of destroying her ; f jr
this purpose you "ourchased a deadly drug, which you procured to be
mingled in the cup which you offered to her under the guise of friendship.
When the potion had taken effect, you plundered her of her property,
though it was much less than your guilty cupidity had suggested. Your
crime appeared likely to be perpetrated, as to this world, witli impunity ;
more than four years had elapsed since its perpetration, and the remem-
brance of it began to fade from the recollection of every one but the guilty
autlior of the deed, and it seemed probable, tliat nothing more would have
jeen heard of it, if the consciousness of your crime, more poignant and
destructive than the poisoned bowl, had not compelled you to disclose the
horrid secret. — Chequered as your life has been with crimes, I cannot
indulge the hope, tliat anything that I can say will have any lasting
effect upon you ; but I conjure you to spend the few remaining hours you
have to live, in earnest prayer and supplication to Heaven for mercy ; and
may your unhappy fate convince others, that though their crimes may be
committed in the darkness of the night, they will iiereafter be proclaimed
at noon-day."
Sentence was then passed in the usual terms, and the prisoner was
executed on the 20th of March 1809.
We have no record of the manner in which he met his death.
MARY BATEMAN,
Commonly called the Yorkshire Witch.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
The insidious arts practised by this woman rendered her a pest to the
neighbourhood in which she resided, and she richly deserved that fate which
eventually befel her.
She was indicted at York on the 18th of March 1809, for the wilful
murder of Rebecca Perigo, of Bramley, in the same county, in the month
of May in the previous year.
The examination of the witnesses, who were called to support the case
for the prosecution, showed, that Mrs. Bateman resided at Leeds, and was
well known at that place, as well as in the surrounding districts, as a
'' witch," in which capacity she had been frequently employed to work
cures of " evil wishes," and all the other customary imaginary illnesses, to
which the credulous lower orders at that time supposed themselves liable.
Her name had become much celebrated in tlie neighbourhood for her suc-
cesses in the arts of divining and witchcraft, and it may be readily con-
cluded that her efforts in her own behalf were no less profitable. In the
spring of 1806 ]\Irs. Perigo, who lived with her husband, at Bramley, a
village at a short distance from Leeds, was seized with a " flacking," or
fluttering in her breast, whenever she lay down, and applying to a quack
doctor of the place, he assured her that it was beyond his cure, for tliat an
"evil wish " had been laid upon iier, and that tlie arts of sorcery must be
resorted to in order to effect lier relief. AVhile in this dilemma, she was
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR 459
visited by her niece, a girl named Stead, who at that time filled a situation
as a household servant at Leeds, and who had taken advantage of the
Wliitsuntide holidays to go round to see her friends. Stead expressed her
sorrow to find her aunt in so terrible a situation, and recommended an im-
mediate appeal to the prisoner, whose powers she described as fully
equal to get rid of any affection of the kind, whether produced by mortal
or diabolical charms. An application was at once determined on to her, and
Stead was employed to broach the subject to the diviner. She, in conse-
quence, paid the prisoner a visit at her house in Black Dog Yard, near the
bank, at Leeds, and having acquainted her with the nature of the malady
by which her aunt was affected, was informed by her, that she knew a
lady, who lived at Scarborough, and that if a flannel petticoat or some
article of dress, which was worn next the skin of the patient, was sent to
her, she would at once communicate witli her upon the subject. On the
following Tuesday William Perigo, the husband of the deceased, proceeded
to her house, and having handed over liis wife's flannel petticoat, the pri-
soner said that she would write to Miss Blythe, who was the lady to whom
she had alluded, at Scarborough, by the same night's post, and that an
answer would doubtless be returned by that day week, when he was to ciill
again. On the day mentioned, Perigo was true to his appointment, and
the prisoner produced to him a letter, saying that it had arrived from Miss
Blythe, and that it contained directions as to what was to be done. After
a great deal of circumlocution and mystery the letter was opened, and was
read by the prisoner, and it was found that it contained an order " that
Mary Bateman should go to Perigo's house, at Bramley, and should take
with her four guinea notes, which were enclosed, and tliat she should sew
them into the fonr corners of the bed, in which the diseased woman slept,
where they were to remain for eighteen months ; that Perigo was to give
her four other notes of like value, to be returned to Scarborough ; and that
unless all these directions were strictly attended to, the charm would be
useless and would not work." On the fourth of August the prisoner went
over to Bramley, and having shown the four notes, proceeded apparently
to sew them up in silken bags, which she delivered over to Mrs. Perigo to
be placed in the bed. The four notes desired to be returned were then
handed to her by Perigo, and she retired, directing her dupes frequently to
send to her house, as letters might be expected from Miss Blythe. In
about a fortnight, another letter was produced ; and it contained directions,
that two pieces of iron in the form of horse-shoes should be nailed up at
Perigo's door, by the prisoner, but that the nails should not be driven in
■with a hammer, but with the back of a pair of pincers, and that the pincers
were to be sent to Scarborough, to remain in the custody of Miss Blythe
for the eighteen months already mentioned in the charm. The prisoner
accordingly again visited Bramley, and having nailed up the horse-shoes
received and carried off the y)incers. In October the following letter was
received by Perigo, bearing the signature of the supposed Miss Blythe.
" jNIy dear Friend. — You must go down to Mary Bateman's, at Leeds,
on Tuesday next, and carry two guinea notes with you and give her them,
!ind she will give you other two that I have sent to her from Scarborough ;
and you must buy me a small cheese about six oi eight pound weight, and
it must be of your buying, for it is for a particular use, and it is to be car-
ried down to IMary Boteman's, and she will send it to me by the coach. — .
This letter is to be burned when you have done readino^ it."
460 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
From this time to tlie month of March 1807, a great numher of letters
were received, demaiidincr tlie transmission of various articles, to Mis3
Blythe, through the medium of the prisoner, the whole of which were to
be preserved by her until the expiration of the eighteen months ; and in
the course of the same period money to the amount of near seventy pounds
was paid over, Perigo, upon each occasion of payment, receiving silk bags,
containing what were pretended to be coins or notes of corresponding
value, which were to be sewn up in the bed as before. In March 1807,
the following letter arrived.
" i\Iy dear Friends. — I will be obliged to you if you will let me have
half-a-dozen of your china, three silver spoons, half-a-pound of tea, two
pounds of loaf sugar, and a tea canister to put the tea in, or else it will
not do — I durst not drink out of my own china. You must burn this
with a candle."
The china, &c., not having been sent, in the month of April Miss
Blythe wrote as follows : —
" My dear Friends. — / will he obliged to you if you will Imy me a camp
bedstead^ led and bedding, a blanket, a pair of sheets, and a long bolster
must come from your house. — You need not buy the best feathers, common
ones will do. 1 have laid on the floor for three nights, and I cannot lay
on my own bed owing to the planets being so bad concerning your wife,
and I must have one of your buying or it will not do. — You must bring
dovi^n the china, the sugar, the caddy, the three silver spoons, and the tea
at the same time when you buy the bed, and pack them up altogether. —
My brother s boat will be up in a day or two, and I will order my bro-
ther's boatman to call for them all at Mary Bateman's, and you must give
Mary Bateman one shilling for the boatman, and 1 will place it to
your account. Your wife must burn this as soon as it is read or it will
not do."
This had the desired efifect ; and the prisoner having called upon the
Perigos, she accompanied them to the sliops of a Mr. Dobbin, and a Mr.
Musgrave, at Leeds, to purchase the various articles named, which were
eventually bought at a cost of sixteen pounds, and sent to Mr. Sutton's,
at the Lion and Lamb Inn, Kirkgate, there to await the arrival of the
supposed messenger.
At the end of April, the following letter arrived : — " ]\Iy dear Friends.
— I am sorry to tell you you will take an illness in the month of May
next, one or both of you, Ijut I think both, but the works of God must
have its course. — You will escape the chambers of the grave ; though you
seem to be dead, yet you will live. Your wife must take half-a-pound of
honey down from Bramley to JNIary Bateman's at Leeds, and it must
remain there till you go down yourself, and she will put in such like stuff
as I have sent from Scarbro' to her, and she will put it in when you come
down, and see her yourself, or it will not do. You must eat pudding for
six days, and you must put in such like stuff as I have sent to jMary Bate-
man from Scarbro', and she will give your wife it, but you must not begin
to eat of this pudding while I let you know. If ever you find yourself
sickly at any time, you must take each of you a teaspoonful of this honey;
I will remit twenty pounds to you on the 20th day of May, and it will
pay a little of what you owe. You must bring this down to IMary Bate-
man's, and burn it at her house, when you come down next time."
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 461
The instructions contained in this letter were complied witli, and the
prisoner having first mixed a white powder in the honey, handed over six
others of the same colour and description to Mrs. Perifj;o, saying that they
must be used in the precise manner mentioned upon them, or tliey would
all be killed. On the 5th of I^Iay, another letter arrived in tlie following
terms : —
" ily dear Friends. — You must begin to eat pudding on the 1 1 th of
May, and you must put one of the powders in every day as tliey are
marked, for six days — and you must see it put in yourself every day or
else it will not do. If you find yourself sickly at any time you must not
have no doctor, for it will not do, and you must not let the boy tliat used
to eat with you eat of that pudding for six days ; and you must make only
just as much as you can eat yourselves, if there is any left it will not do.
You must keep the door fast as much as possible or you will be overcome
by some enemy. Now think on and take my directions or else it will kill
us all. About the 25th of May I will come to Leeds and send for your wife
to Mary Bateman's ; your wife will take me by the hand and say, ' God
bless you that I ever found you out.' It has pleased God to send me
into the world that I might destroy the works of darkness ; I call them
the works of darkness because they are dark to you — now mind what I
say whatever you do. This letter must be burned in straw on the hearth
by your wife."
The absurd credulity of Mr. and Mrs. Perigo even yet favoured the
horrid designs of the prisoner; and, in obedience to the directions which
they received, they began to eat the puddings on the day named. For
five days, they had no particular flavour, but upon the sixth powder being
mixe;], the pudding was found so nauseous, that the former could only eat
one or two mouthfuls, while his wife managed to swallow three or four.
They were both directly seized with violent vomiting, and Mrs. Perigo,
whose faith appears to have been greater than that of her husband, at
once had recourse to the honey. Their sickness continued during the
whole day, but although Mrs. Perigo suffered the most intense torments,
she positively refused to hear of a doctor's being sent for, lest, as she said,
the charm should be broken, by Miss Blythe's directions being opposed.
The recovery of the husband from the illness, by which he was affected,
slowly progressed ; but the wife, who persisted in eating the honey, con-
tinued daily to lose strength, and at length expired on the 24th of May,
her last words being a request to her husband not to be "rash" with Mary
Batenian, but to await the coming of the appointed time.
Mr. Chorley, a surgeon, was subsequently called in to see her body; but
although he expressed his firm belief that the death of the deceased was
caused by her having taken poison, and although that impression was con-
firmed by the circumstance of a cat dying immediately after it had eaten
some of the pudding, no further steps were taken to ascertain the real
cause of death, and Perigo even subsequently continued in communication
with the prisoner.
Upon his informing her of the death of his wife, she at once d( clared
that it was attributable to her having eaten all the honey at once, and
then in the beginnincr of June, he received the following letter from Miss
Blythe :—
" My dear Friend. — I am sorry to tell you that your wife should toucb
4G2 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
of tlio«e things -which I ordered her not, and for tliat reason it has caused
lier death ; it had likened to have killed me at Scarborough, and Mary
Bateman at Leeds, and you and all, and for this reason, she will rise from
the grave, she will stroke your face with her right hand, and you will lose
the use of one side, but I will pray for you. — I would not have you to go to
no doctor, for it will not do. 1 would have you to eat and drink what you
like, and you will be better. Now, my dear friend, take my directions,
do and it will be better for you. — Pray God bless you. Amen. Amen.
You must burn this letter immediately after it is read."
Letters were also subsequently received by him, purporting to be from
the same person, in which new demands for clothing, coals, and other
articles were made, but at length, in the month of October 1808, two
years having elapsed since the commencement of the charm, he thought that
the time had fully arrived, when, if any good effects were to be produced
from it, they would have been apparent, and that therefore he -was entitled
to look for his money in the bed. He, in consequence, commenced a search
for the little silk bags, in which his notes and money had been, as he sup-
posed, sewn up ; but although the bags indeed were in precisely the same
positions in which they had been placed by his deceased wife, by some
unaccountable conjuration, the notes and gold had turned to rotten cab-
bao-e-leaves and bad farthings. The darkness, by which the truth had
been so long obscured, now passed away, and having communicated 'v\uth
the prisoner, by a stratagem, meeting her under pretence of receiving
from her a bottle of medicine, which was to cure him from the effects of
the puddings which still remained, he caused her to be apprehended.
LTpon her house being searched, nearly all the property sent to the sup-
loosed ]Miss Blythe was found in her possession, and a bottle containing a
liquid mixed with two powders, one of which proved to be oatmeal, and
the other arsenic, was taken from her pocket when she was taken into
custody.
The rest of the evidence against the prisoner went to show that there
was no such person as ]Miss Blythe living at Scarborough, and that all the
letters which had been received by Perigo were in her own handwriting,
and had been sent by her to Scarborough to be transmitted back again.
An attempt was also proved to have been made by her to purchase some
arsenic, at the shop of a IMr. Clough, in Kirkgate, in the month of April
1807, but the most important testimony was that of Mr. Chorley, tlie
surgeon, who distinctly proved that he had analysed what remained of the
pudding, and of the contents of the honey pot, and that he found them
both to contain a deadly poison, called corrosive sublimate of mercury, and
that the symptoms exhibited by the deceased and her husband were such
as would have arisen from the administration of such a drug.
The prisoner's defence consisted of a simple denial of the charge, and the
learned judge then proceeded to address the jury. Having stated tlie
nature of the allegations made in the indictment, he said that in order to
come to a conclusion as to the guilt of the prisoner, it was necessary that
three points should be clearly made out. 1st. That the deceased died of
poison. 2nd. That that poison was administered by the contrivance and
knowledge of the prisoner. And :3rd. That it was so done for the purpose
of occasioning the death of the deceased. A large body of evidence had
been laid before them, to prove that the prisoner had engaged in schemes
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 463
of fraud ag.ainst the deceased and her husband, whlcli Avas proved not
merely by the evidence of Wm. Perigo, but by the testimony of other
witnesses ; and the inference the prosecutors drew from tliis fraud was
tlie existence of a powerful motive or temptation to commit a still greater
crime, for the purpose of escaping the shame and punishment which must
have attended the detection of the fraud; a fraud so gross, that it excited his
surprise that any individual in that age and nation could be the dupe of it.
But the jury should not go beyond this inference, and presume that, because
the prisoner had been guilty of fraud, she was of course likely to have
committed the crime of murder; that, if proved, must be shown by other
evidence. His Lordi^hip then proceeded to recapitulate the whole of the
evidence, as detailed in the preceding pages, and concluded with the
following observations. " It is impossible not to be struck with wonder at
the extraordinary credulity of Wm. Perigo, which neither the loss of his
property, the death of his wife, and his own severe sufferings, could dispel;
and it was not imtil the month of October in the following year, that he
ventured to open his hid treasure, and found there what every one in court
must have anticipated that he would find, not a single vestige of his
property; and his evidence is laid before the jury with the observation
which arises from this uncommon want of judgment. His memory
however appears to be very retentive, and his evidence is confirmed, and
that in difterent parts of the narrative, by other witnesses ; and many parts
of the case do not rest upon his evidence at ail. The illness, and peculiar
symptoms, which preceded the death of his wife ; his own severe sickness ;
and a variety of other circumstances attending the experiments made upon
the pudding, were proved by separate and independent testimony j and
it is most strange, that, in a case of so much suspicion as it appeared to
have excited at the time, the interment of the body should have taken
place without any inquiry as to the cause of death, an inquiry which then
would have been much less difficult ; though the fact of the deceased hav-
ing died of poison is now well established. The main question is, did the
prisoner contrive the means to induce the deceased to take it ? — if she did
so contrive the means, the intent could only be to destroy. — Poison so
deadly could not be administered with any other view. The jury will lay
all the facts and circumstances together ; and if they feel them press so
strongly against the prisoner, as to induce a conviction of the prisoner's
having procured the deceased to take poison, with an intent to occasion her
death, they will find her guilty ; if they do not think the evidence conclu •
sive, they will, in that case, find the prisoner not guilty."
The jury, after conferring for a moment, found the prisoner guilty ;—
and the judge proceeded to pass sentence of death upon her, in nearly
the following words : —
" Mary Bateman, you have been convicted of wilful murder by a jury,
who, after having examined your case with caution, have, constrained by
the force of evidence, pronounced you guilty ; and it only remains for me
to fulfil my painful duty by passing upon you the awful sentence of the
law. After you have been so long in the situation in which you now
stand, and harassed as your mind must be by the long detail of your
crimes, and by listening to the sufferings you have occasioned, I do not
wish to add to your distress by saying more than my duty renders neces-
sary. Of your guilt, there cannot remain a particle of doubt in the breast
464 THE XEAV NEWGATE CALENDAR.
of any one who has heard your case. — You entered into a long and preme-
ditated system of fraud, which you carried on for a lengtli of time, wliich is
most astonishing, and by means wliich one woukl have supposed could
not, in tliis age and nation, have been practised witli success. To prevent
a discovery of your complicated fraud, and the punishment which must
have resulted therefrom, you deliberately contrived the death of the persons
you had so grossly injured, and that by means of poison, a mode of de-
struction against which there is no sure protection ; but your guilty design
was not fully accomplished. — And, after so extraordinary a lapse of time,
you are reserved as a signal example of the justice of that mysterious Pro-
vidence, which, sooner or later, overtakes guilt like yours ; and at the very
time when you were apprehended, there is the greatest reason to suppose,
that if your surviving victim had met you alone, as you wished him to do,
you would have administered to him a more deadly dose, which would have
completed the diabolical project you had long before formed, but which at
that time only partially succeeded ; for upon your person, at that moment,
was found a phial containing a most deadly poison. For crimes like yours,
in tliis world, the gates of mercy are closed. You afforded your victim no
time for preparation ; but the law, while it dooms you to death, has, in its
mercy, afforded you time for repentance, and the assistance of pious and
devout men, whose admonitions, and prayers, and counsels, may assist to
prepare you for another world, where even your crimes, if sincerely repented
of, may find mercy.
" The sentence of the law is, and the court doth award it, That you be
taken to the place from whence you came, and from thence, on Monday
next, to the place of execution, there to be hanged by the neck until you
are dead ; and that your body be given to the surgeons to be dissected
and anatomised ; and may Almighty God have mercy upon your soul."
The prisoner having intimated that she was pregnant, the clerk of the
arraigns said, " Mary Bateman, what have you to say, why immediate
execution should not be awarded against you ?" On which the prisoner
pleaded that she was twenty-two weeks gone with child. On t.iis plea the
judge ordered the sheriff to impannel a jury of matrons ; this order created
a general consternation among the ladies, who hastened to quit the court,
to prevent the execution of so painful an office being imposed upon them.
His lordship, in consequence, ordered the doors to be closed, and in about
half-an-hour, twelve married women being impannelled, they were sworn
in court, and charged to inquire " whether the prisoner was with quick
child ?" The jury of matrons then retired with the prisoner, and on their
return into court delivered their verdict, which was, that Mary Bateman
is not with quick child. The execution of course was not respited, and she
was remanded back to prison.
During the brief interval between her receiving sentence of death and her
execution, the ordinary, the Rev. George Brown, took great pains to pre-
vail upon her ingenuously to acknowledge and confess her crimes. Though
the prisoner behaved with decorum, during the few hours that remained of
her existence, and readily joined in the customary offices of devotion, no
traits of that deep compunction of mind, which, for crimes like hers, must
be felt where repentance is sincere, could l)e ob-^erved ; but she maintained
her caution and mystery to the last. On the day preceding her execution,
she wrote a letter to her husband, in which ^he enclosed her wedding-ring,
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 4G5
"with a request that it might be given to her daughter. She admitted that
she had been guilty of many frauds, but still denied that she had had any
intention to produce the death of Mr. or Mrs. Perigo.
Upon the Monday morning at five o'clock she was called from her cell,
to undergo the last sentence of the law. She received the communion with
some other prisoners, who were about to be executed on the same day, but
all attempts to induce her to acknowledge the justice of her sentence, or tlie
crime of which she had been found guilty, proved vain. She maintained
the greatest firmness in her demeanour to the last, which was in no wise
interrupted even iipon her taking leave of her infant child, which lay sleep-
ing in her cell, at the moment of her being called out to the scaffold.
Upon the appearance of the convict upon the platform, the deepest
silence prevailed amongst the immense assemblage of persons, which had
been collected to witness the execution. As a final duty, the Rev. Mr.
Brown, immediately before the drop fell, again exhorted the unhappy
woman to confession, but her only reply was a repetition of the declaration
of her innocence, and the next moment terminated her existence.
Her body having remained suspended during the usual time, was cut
down, and sent to the General Infirmary at Leeds to be anatomised.
Immense crowds of persons assembled to meet the hearse, in which it was
carried ; and so great was the desire of the people to see her remains, that
30^. were collected for the use of the infirmary, by the payment of Sd. for
each person admitted to the apartment in which they were exposed.
A short sketch of the life of this remarkable woman, and a few anecdotes
of her proceedings, shall conclude this article. Mary Bateman, it appears,
was born of reputable parents at Aisenby, near Thirsk, in the North-riding
of Yorkshire, in the year 1768 : her father, whose name was Harker,
carrying on business as a small farmer. As early as at the age of five
years, she exhibited much of that sly knavery, which subsequently so
extraordinarily distinguished her character ; and many were the frauds and
falsehoods, of which she was guilty, and for which she was punished.
In the year 1780, she first quitted her father's house, to undertake the
duties of a servant in Thirsk, but having been guilty of some peccadilloes,
she proceeded to York in 1 787 ; but before she had been in that city more
than twelve months, she was detected in pilfering some trifling articles of
property belonging to her mistress, and was compelled to run off to Leeds,
without waiting either for her wages or her clothes. For a considerable
time she remained without employment or friends, but at length upon the
recommendation of an acquaintance of her father, she obtained an engage-
ment in the shop of a mantua-maker, in whose service she remained for
more than three years. She then became acquainted with John Bateman,
to whom after a three weeks' courtship she was married in the year 1792.
Within two months after her marriage, she was found to have been
guilty of many frauds, and she only escaped prosecution by inducing her
husband to move frequently from place to place, so as to escape apprehen-
sion ; and at length poor Bateman, driven almost wild by the tricks of his
wife, entered the supplementary militia. Mrs. Bateman was now entirely
tlirown upon her own resources, and unable to follow any reputable trade,
she in the year 1799 took up her residence in Marsh Lane, near Timble
Bridge, Leeds, and proceeded to deal in fortune-telling and the sale of
charms. From a long course of iniquity, carried on chiefly through tlia
VOL. I. 3 0
4(56 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
medium of the most wily arts, she had acquired a manner, and a mode of
speech pecuUarly adapted to her new profession ; and abundance of credulous
victims, upon whom she was able to prosecute her schemes, daily presented
themselves to her.
Her first daring attempt was upon a Mrs. Greenwood, whom she
persuaded that her husband was in a situation of the greatest peril, which
would be aggravated by the circumstance being mentioned to him ; that he
was in danger of being accused of a crime, for which he would be instantly
sacrificed, and that so relentless and determined were his prosecutors, that
unless four pieces of gold, four pieces of leather, four pieces of blotting-
paper, and four brass screws were given to her, to " screw them down,"
he would be dead before the morning. Mrs. Greenwood, unfortunately for
the trick, was not possessed of even one piece of gold, and the proposition
of the " witch," that she should steal what she wanted, so startled her, that
she had fortitude enough to emancipate herself from the trammels which
had been thrown round her.
Her next attempt was upon a poor woman named Stead, upon whose
jealous fears she worked so far, as to obtain from her nearly the whole of
her furniture, under pretence of " screwing down," a woman, with whom
she represented that her husband was intimate. Stead was about to enter
the army ; and Mrs. Bateman next easily found means to persuade him, as
she had persuaded his wife, of her powers, and she obtained from him all
the little money, which he had obtained as his bounty, under the pretence
of " screwing down " his officers to give him promotion. The fascinating
and all powerful Miss Blythe had not yet been discovered, but all her
operations were now performed through tlie medium of a !Mrs. Moore, whose
existence, it may readily be supposed, wJis as doubtful as that of her
subsequent coadjutor.
Terror was the great engine by which this woman carried on her frauds,
and as the wife of Stead had still a few articles of furniture and clothing —
the last sad Avreck of their property, she persuaded her if something was
not doue to prevent it, her daughter who was then only about eight years
of age, would, when she attained the age of fourteen, become pregnant of an
illegitimate child, and that either she would murder herself, or would be
murdered by her seducer, to prevent which, 1 7s. was to be placed in ^lary
Bateman's hands. This money she was to hand over to the invisible Mrs.
Moore, who was to reduce the coin to a " silver charm," which charm was
to be worn round the girl's arm till the period of danger was past, but
which, when the bubble burst three months after, was cut from the child's
arm, when by a strange transmutation of metal, the silver had turned to
pevrter.
In the midst of these scenes of fraud in one party, and weakness in the
other, a relation of Stead's came over to Leeds in a state of pregnancy, and
forsaken by her lover. This young woman was a fine subject for the
artful Mary Bateman, who soon learned her misfortime, and undertook, on
condition that a guinea was given to her, for ]Mrs. Moore, to make the
lover marry her. The money was paid, but no lover appeared. It was
then found out that he was too strong for the first charm, and that more
money and more screws would be necessary to screw him down to the
altar of Hymen. Still he came not ; and the girl finding the money she
had fast diminishing, procured a service in a respectable family in Leeds,
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 467
the master of which being a bachelor, Mary soon contrived to persuade
the silly girl that she could by her arts oblige him to marry her. Here
a difficulty arose — tlie unborn child was in the way ; but Mary, ever ready
to undertake any business, however desperate, engaged to remove the
impediment, and for that purpose administered certain medicines to the
ill-fated young woman, which produced the desired effect, and abortion
ensued. The master after all was not to be caught ; but the girl's former
sweetheart coming over to Leeds married her, though she was, at that time,
owing as is supposed to the medicine given to her by Mary Bateman, in a
very emaciated state. In speaking of her connexion witli this vile woman,
she used the following remarkable expression: — " Had I never known Mary
Bateman, my child would now have been in my arms, and I should have
been a healthy woman — but it is in eternity, and I am going after it as fast
as time and a ruined constitution can carry me." Tlie unhappy girl died
soon after, a melancholy instance of the direful effects which too great
credulity and weakness of mind may produce.
The artifices and frauds of which she had been hitherto guilty, however,
shrink into com^Darative obscurity, when opposed with the offences
whicli Mrs. Bateman subsequently committed. The case of the imhappy
Mrs. Perigo has been already mentioned, and its circumstances detailed,
but there is too much reason to believe that she was concerned in producing
the death of three persons, a crime of still greater and more cold-blooded
cruelty. The Misses Kitchen Avere quakcr ladies, who carried on the
busiuess of linen-drapers, near St. Peter's Square, Leeds, and Mrs. Bate-
man, by representations of her skill in divination, and reading the stars,
managed so far to ingratiate herself into their good graces as to become
their confidant and most intimate adviser. She attended their shop, was a
constant visitor at their house, and her interference extended even to the
domestic concerns of the family. In the month of September, 1803, the
younger Miss Kitchen was attacked with a severe and painful illness, and
Bateman possessing the full confidence of the family procured medicines
from a person whom she described as a country doctor, but instead of their
producing any improvement in the condition of the unhappy patient, in less
than a week she died. Her mother arrived from Wakefield, where she
lived, in time only to receive the last breath of her daughter, but in two
days, she, as well as the surviving sister, died, and they were all three
placed in the same grave. Throughout the whole of these distressing ill-
nesses Mary Bateman was the sole attendant upon the unhappy women,
and after their death she took upon herself the task of rendering them those
last melancholy offices, which aie usually the duty of the near relations of
the deceased. No person was permitted by her to enter the house, under
pretence that the deceased persons had been affected by the plague, except
those, whose presence was rendered necessary in order to the j^erformance
of the rites of sepulture ; and for many weeks the neighbourhood was
shunned, lest the supposed infection might spread. Mrs. Bateman, how-
ever, in the midst of all, exhibited the most praiseworthy and disinterested
affection for the poor ladies, and in the face of all danger, hesitated not to
minister to their wants, and even after death to take those precautions, in
fumigating the house, which were supposed to be necessary. She prepared
their meals, and by her hands alone were the medicines administered,
"which she professed to have been prescribed. Several months had elapsed
468 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
before any inquiries were made as to the condition in which the deceased
persons had died, and then some of their creditors having determined to
ascertain what property they had left behind them, entered the house. To
their surprise they discovered that of the furniture and stock, of which the
deceased had been known to be possessed, scarce a vestige remained ; and
the discovery of some articles of property in the house of Bateman, which
were known to have belonged to the deceased ladies, but which the former
declared had been given to her by them, aflforded grounds for a well-founded
suspicion that poison was the " plague " of which they had died, although
under the circumstances of the case, and after the lapse of so long a time,
evidence could not be obtained which could be deemed conclusive upon the
subject. The determined cruelty exercised in the case of the Perigos ap-
peared to sanction the suspicions which were entertained, and after convic-
tion Mrs. Bateman was minutely questioned upon the subject, but all
efforts to induce a confession of this crime, or of that of which she was
found guilty, proved unavailing.
It would be useless to follow this wretched woman through the subse-
quent scenes of her miserable life. Fraud and deceit were the only means,
by which she was able to carry on the war, and numerous were the impu-
dent and heartless schemes which she put into operation to dupe the unhappy
objects of her attacks. Her character was such as to prevent her long pur-
suing her occupation in one position, and she was repeatedly compelled to
change her abode until she at length took up her residence in Black Dog
Lane, where she was apprehended. Her husband at this time had returned
from the militia several years, and although he followed the trade to which
he had been brought up, there can be little doubt that he shared the pro-
ceeds of his wife's villanies.
Mary Bateman was neat in her person and dress, and though there was
nothing ingenuous in her countenance, it had an air of placidity and com-
posure, not ill adapted to make a favourable impression on those who
visited her. Her manner of address was soft and insinuating, with the
affectation of sanctity. In her domestic arrangements she was regular, and
was mistress of such qualifications in housewifery as, with an honest heart,
would have enabled her to fill her station with respectability and
usefulness.
A few anecdotes upon the subject of the belief in witchcraft, in former
days, we trust will not prove uninteresting to our readers.
The reign of James the Sixth of Scotland, and First of England, may be
said to have been the witchcraft age of Great Britain. Scotland had
always been a sort of fairy land ; but it remained for that sagacious prince,
at a time when knowledge was beginning to dispel the mists of supersti-
tion, to contribute, by his authority and writings, to resolve a prejudice of
education into an article of religious belief amongst the Scottish people.
He wrote and published a " Treatise on Da^monologie ;" the purpose of
which was, to "resolve the doubting hearts of many, as to the fearful
abounding of those detestable slaves of the Devil, witches, or enchanters."
The authority of Scripture was perverted, to show, not only the possibility,
but certainty, that such " detestable scenes " do exist ; and many most
ridiculous stories of evil enchantment were added, to establish their
"^ fearful abounding." The treatise, which is in the form of a dialogue,
treats also of the punishment which such crimes deserve; concluding, that
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 469
" no sex, age, nor rank, should be excused from the punishment of death,
according to the law of God, the civil and imperial law, and tlie municipal
law of all Christian nations." In answer to the question, " What to judge
of deathe, I pray you ?" The answer is, " It is commonlie used by fyre,
but there is an indifierent thing to be used in every country, according to
the law or custume thereof."
Such, in fact, was the ci'uel and barbarous law of James's native country ;
and such became the law also of England, when he succeeded to the sceptre
of Elizabeth. IMany hundreds of unfortunate creatures, in both countries,
became its victims, suiFering death ignominiously, for an impossible offence:
neither sex, nor age, nor rank, as James had sternly enjoined, was spared ;
and it was the most helpless and inoffensive, such as aged and lone women,
who wei'e most exposed to its malignant operation.
There were persons regularly employed in hunting out, and bringing to
punishment, those unfortunate beings suspected of witchcraft.
Matthew Hopkins resided at JManningtree, in Essex, and was witch-
finder for the associated counties of Essex, Suffolk, Norfolk, and Hunting-
donshire. In the years 1644, 1645, and 1646, accompanied by one John
Stern, he brought many to the fatal tree as reputed witches. He hanged,
in one year, no less than sixty reputed witches of his own county of Essex.
The old, the ignorant, and the indigent, such as could neither plead tlieir
own cause nor hire an advocate, were the miserable victims of this wretch's
credulity, spleen, and avarice. He pretended to be a great critic in special
marks, which were only moles, scorbutic spots, or warts, that frequently
grow large and pendulous in old age ; but were absurdly supposed to be
teats to suckle imps. His ultimate method of proof was by tying together
the thumbs and toes of the suspected person, about whose waist was
fastened a cord, the ends of which were held on the banks of the river by
two men, in wliose power it was to strain or slacken it. Swimming, upon
this experiment, was deemed a sufficient proof of guilt; for which king
James (who is said to have recommended, if he did not invent it) assigned
a ridiculous reason, that, " as some persons had renounced their baptism by
water, so the water refuses to receive them." Sometimes those who were
accused of diabolical practices, were tied neck and heels, and tossed into a
pond : if they floated or swam, they were consequently guilty, and were
therefore taken out and burned ; but if tliey were innocent, they were only
drowned. The experiment of swimming was at length tried upon Hopkins
liimself, in his own way, and he was upon the event condemned, and, as it
seems, executed as a wizard. In a letter from Serjeant Widrinton to Lord
Whitelocke, mention is made of another fellow of the same profession as
Hopkins. This fellow received twenty shillings a-head for every witch he
discovered, and thereby obtained rewards amounting to thirty pounds.
In an old print of this execrable character, he is represented with two
■witches. One of them, named Holt, is supjDosed to say, " ]\Iy Impes are.
1. Ilemauzyr; '2. Pyewackett ; 3. Pecke in the Crown; 4. Griezell
Griediegutt." Four animals attend : Jarmara, a black dog ; Sacke and
Sugar, a hare ; Newes, a ferret ; Vinegar Tom, a bull-headed greyhound.
This print is in the Pepysian library.
Amongst a number of women (as many as sixteen) whom Hopkins, in
the year 1644, accused at Yarmouth, was one, of whom the following
account is given. It appears that she used to work for Mr. Moulton (a
470 THE M:t\' NEWGATE CALENDAR.
stocking mercliant, and alderman of the town), and upon a certain day
went to his house for work ; but he being from home, his man refused to
let her have any till his master returned ; whereupon, being exasperated
igainstthe man, she applied herself to the maid, and desired some knitting-
work of her ; and when she returned the like answer, she went home hi
great discontent against them both. That night, when she was in bed,
she heard a knock at her door, and going to lier window, she saw (it being
moon-light) a tall black man there : and asked what he would have ? He
told her that she was discontented, because she could not get work ; and
that he would put her into a way that she should never want anything.
On this, she let him in, and asked him what he had to say to her ? He
told her he must first see her liands ; and taking out something like a
penknife, he gave it a little scratch, so that a little blood followed,
a scar being still visible when she told the story ; then he took some of
tlie blood in a pen, and pulling a book out of his pocket, bid her write
her name ; and when she said she could not, he said he would oruide her
hand. When this was done, he bid her now ask what she would have.
And when she desired first to be revenged on the man, he promised to give
her an account of it next night, and so leaving her some money went awav.
The next night he came to her again, and told her he could do nothing
against the man, for he went constantly to church, and said his prayers
morninor and evening. Then she desired him to revenge her on the maid ;
and he again promised her an account thereof the next night : but he said
the same of the maid, and that therefore he could not hurt her. But she
said that there was a young child in the house, which was more easy to be
dealt with. AVhereupon she desired him to do what he could against it.
The next night he came again, and brought with him an image of wax,
and told her they must go and bury that in the church-yard, and then the
child, which he had put in great pain already, should waste away as that
image wasted. Whereupon they went together and buried it. The child
havino- laid in a languishing condition for about eighteen months, and
being verj- near death, the minister sent this woman with this account to
the magistrates, who thereupon sent her to Mr. Moulton's, where, in the
same room that the child lay, almost dead, she was examined concerning
the particulars aforesaid ; all which she confessed, and had no sooner
done, but the child, who was three years old, and was thought to be dead
or dying, laughed, and began to stir and raise up itself : and from that
instant began to recover. The woman was convicted upon her own
confession, and was executed accordingly.
A more melancholy tale does not occur in the annals of necromancy,
than that of the Lancashire Witches, in 1612. The scene of the story is
in Penderbury Forest, four or five miles from Manchester, remarkable for
its picturesque and gloomy situation. It had long been of ill repute, as a
consecrated haunt of diabolical intercourse, when a country magistrate,
Eoger Nowel by name, took it into his head that he should perform a
great public service by routing out a nest of witches, who had rendered
the place a terror to all the neighbouring vulgar. The first persons he
seized on, were Elizabeth Demdike and Ann Chattox. The former was
eighty years of age, and had for some years been blind, and principally
subsisted by begging, though she had a miserable hovel on the spot, which
she called her own. Anne Chattox was of the same age, and had for
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 471
ftome time been threatened with the calamity of blindness. Dcnidike was
held to be so hardened a Avitch that she had trained all her family to the
mystery : namely, Elizabeth Device, her daughter, and James and Alison
Device, her great-grandchildren. These, together with John Balcock, and
Jane his mother, Alice Natter, Catherine Hewitt, and Isabel Roby, were
successively apprehended by the diligence of Nowel, and one or two neigh-
bouring magistrates, and were all of them by some means induced, some
to make a more liberal, and others a more restricted confession of their
misdeeds in v*'itchcraft, and Avere afterwards hurried away to Lancastet
Castle, fifty miles off, to prison. Their crimes were said to have universally
proceeded from malignity and resentment ; and it was reported to have
repeatedly happened for poor old Demdike to be led by night from her
habitation into the open air, by some member of her family, where she
was left alone for an hour to curse her victim, and pursue her unholy
incantations, and was then sought and brovight back again to her hovel,
her curses never failing to produce the desired effect.
The poor wretches had been but a short time in prison, when informa-
tion was given that a meeting of witches was held on Good-Friday, at
Malkin's Tower, the habitation of Elizabeth Device, to the number of
twenty persons, to consult how, by infernal machinations, to kill one
Lovel, an officer, to blow up Lancaster Castle, deliver the prisoners, and
to kill another man, of the name of Lister. The last object was effected ;
the other plans, by some means, which are not related, were prevented.
The prisoners were kept in jail till the summer assizes ; but in the mean
time, the poor blind Demdike died in confinement.
The other prisoners were severally indicted for killing by witchcraft
certain persons who were named, and were all found guilty. The princi-
pal witnesses against Elizabeth Device were James Device and Jennet
Device, her grandchildren, the latter only nine years of age. "When this
girl was put into the witness-box, the grandmotlier, on seeing her, set up
so dreadful a yell, intermixed with dreadful curses, that the child declared
that she could not go on with her evidence, unless the prisoner was
removed. This was agreed to, and both brother and sister swore that they
had been present, when the Devil came to their grandmothei", in the shape
of a black dog, and asked her what she desired. She said the death of
John Robinson ; when the dog told her to make an image of Robinson in
clay, and after crumble it into dust, and as fast as the image perished,
the life of the victim should waste away, and in conclusion the man should
die. This testimony was received ; and upon the conviction, winch
followed, ten persons were led to the gallows, on the twentieth of August,
Anne Chattox, of eighty years of age, among the rest, the day after the
trials, which lasted two days, were finished.
The judges who presided on these trials were Sir James Altham and Sir
Edward Bromley, barons of the exchequer.
Guluim, who gives the most simple and interesting account of this
melancholy case, conjectures, with much reason, that the old women had
played at the game of commerce with the Devil, in order to make their
simpler neighbours afraid of them ; and that tliey played the game so
long, that in an imperfect degree they deceived themselves. But when
one of them actually saw her grandchild of nine years old placed in the
witness-box, with the intention of consigning her to a public and ignomi-
472 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
nious death, then the rt veries of the imagination vanished, and she deeply
t'flt the reality, that, when she had been somewhat imposing on the child,
in devilish sport, she had been whetting the dagger that was to take her own
life. It was then no wonder that she uttered a supernatural yell, and
poured curses from her heart.
Such was the first case of the Lancashire Witches. In that which
folJGWs, the accusation was clearly traced to be founded on a most villan-
ous conspiracy.
About the year 1634, a boy named Edmund Robinson, whose father, a
very poor man, dwelt in Pendle Forest, the scene of the alleged witching,
declared that, while gathering wild-flowers in one of the glades of the
forest, he saw two greyhounds, which he supposed to belong to a gentle-
man in the neighbourhood. Seeing nobody following them, the boy alleged
that he proposed to have a course ; but, though a hare was started, the
dofTs refused to run. Young Robinson was about to punish them with a
switch, when one Dame Dickenson a neighbour's wife, started up instead
of the one greyhound ; and a little boy instead of the other. The witness
averred that Mother Dickenson offered him money to conceal what he had
seen, which he refused, saying, ' Nay ; thou art a witch ! ' Apparently,
she was determined he should have full evidence of the truth of what he
said, for she pulled out of her pocket a bridle, and shot it over the head
of the boy, who had so lately represented the other greyhound. He was
then directly changed into a horse ; Mother Dickenson mounted, and took
Robinson before her. They made to a large house or barn, called Hoiirs-
town, into which the boy entered with the others. He there saw six or seven
persons pulling at halters, from which, as they pulled them, meat ready-
dressed came flying in quantities, together with lumps of butter, porringers
of milk, and whatever else might, in his fancy, complete a rustic feast.
He declared that, while engaged in the charm, they made such ugly faces
and looked so fiendish, that he was frightened.
This story succeeded so well, that the father of the boy took him round
to the neiohbouring churches, where he placed him standing on a bench
after service, and bade him look round and see what he could observe.
The device, however clumsy, succeeded ; and no less than seventeen per-
sons were apprehended at the boy's election, and conducted, as witches, to
Lancaster Castle. These seventeen persons were tried at the assizes and
found guilty; but the judge, whose name has unfortunately been lost,
unlike Sir James Altham and Sir Edward Bromley, saw something in the
case that excited his suspicion, and, though the juries had not hesitated in
any one instance, respited the convicts, and sent up a report of the affair
to the government. Twenty-two years had not elapsed since the former
case, in vain. Four of the prisoners were, by the judge's recommendation,
sent for to the metropolis, and were examined, first by the king's physi-
cian, and then by Charles the First, in person. The boy's story was
strictly scrutinised, and in the end, he confessed that it was all an impos-
ture, in which he had been instructed by his father ; and the whole
seventeen prisoners received the royal pardon.
So late as the year 1679, several unfortunate persons were tried and
executed at Borrostowness in Scotland, for witchcraft, four of them being
poor widows. The following is a literal copy of the indictment upon
which they were arraigned • —
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 473
" Annaple Thomsone, widow in Borrostowness, Margaret Princle, relect
of the deceast John Campbell, seivewright there, &c. &c.
" Aye, and ilk ane of you, are indigtted and accused, that, whereas, not-
withstanding the law of God particulurlie sett down in the 20th chapter
of Leveticus and the 18th chapter of Deuteronomy, and be tlie lawes and
actes of parliament of this kingdome and constant practis thereof, particu-
larlie to the 27 act, 29 parliament Q. Marie, the crynie of witchcraft is
(leclaired to be one horreid, abominable, and capitall cryme, punishable
with the pains of death and confiscatiown of moveables : — nevertheless it is
of veritie, that you have comitted and are gwyltie of the said crime of
witchcraft, in awa far ye have entered in practicion with the devile, the
enemie of your salvatiown, and have renownced our blessed Lord and
Savior, and your baptizme, and have given yoursellfes, both souUes and
bodies, to the devile, and swyndrie wyth witches, in divers places. And
panicularlie ye, the said Annaple Thompsone, had a metting with the
devile the time of your weidowliood, before you were married to your last
husband, in your coming betwixt Linlithgow and Borrostowness, where
the devile, in the lykeness of one black man, told you, that vou was one
poor puddled bodie, and had one lyiff and difficulties to win throu the
world ; and promesed iff ye wald followe him, and go alongst with him,
you should never want, but have one better lyiff; and about fyve wekes
thereafter the devile appeared to you, when you was going to the coal-hill,
abowt sevin a-clock in the morning. . Having renewed his former temta-
tiown, you did condeshend thereto and declared yourselff" content to follow
him and become his servant ; whereupon the devile * * * ^j^^j yg
and each persone of you wis at several metting with the devile, in the
linkes of Borrostowness, and in the house of you, Bessie Vicker ; and ye
did eate and drink with the devile, and with one another, and with witches
ia her howss in the night tyme ; and the said Wm. Crow brouoht the ale,
which ye drank, extending about sevin gallons, from the howss of Elizabeth
Hamilton ; and you, the said Annaple, had another metting about fyve
wekes ago, when you wis goeing to the coal- hill of Grange, and he
inveitted you to go alongst and drink with him in the Grange farmes; and
you, the said Margaret Pringle, have bein one witch this many yeeres by
gone, hath renownced your baptizme and becum the devile's servant, and
promeis to follow him ; and the devile took you by the right hand, wliere-
hy it was for eight days greivowslie pained, but, having it twitched new
again, it immedeatelie became haill ; and you, the said Margaret Hamilton
has bein the devile's servant these eight or nine years by gone, and he
appeared and conversed with you at the town well of Borrostowness, and
several times at your owin howss, and drank several choppens of ale with
you. * * and the devile gane you ane fyne merk piece of gold, which
a lyttle after becam ane skleite stone ; and you, the said Margaret Hamil-
ton, relict of James PuUevart, has been ane witch, and the devile's servant,
thertie yeres since, hath renounced your baptisme, as said is
*********
And ye, and ilk of you, was at a meeting m ith the devile and other witches,
at the croce of Murestain, above Renneil, upon the threttein of October
last, where you all danced, and the devile acted the piper, and where you
endevored to have destroyed Andrew Mitchell, sone to John Mitchell,
elder in dean of Kenneil."
VOL. I. 3 P
474 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
The charges thus made against the " poor puddled bodies," Annaple
Thomsone and her associates, howeyer ludicrous they may seem, were sub-
stantiated to tlie satisfaction of a jury ; and for so meeting, and dancing,
and drinking, and frolicking with his Satanic majesty (who condescended
to act the piper), the unfortunate defendants were solemnly condemned,
"to be taken to the west end of Borrostowness, the ordinary place of
execution there, upon Tuesday, the 23rd day of December current, betv/ixt
two and four in the afternoon, and then to be wirried at a steack Ttliat is.
like a bull or a badger, by dogs in human shape]] till they be dead, and
thereafter to have their bodies burned to ashes."
Tlie strange and eventful history of the Witches of New England is,
perhaps, generally known to the educated and informed : still there must
be many who are not aware of all its melancholy details. As a storv
of witclicraft, without any poetry in it, without anything to amuse the
iraao'ination, or interest the fancy, it, perhaps, surpasses everytliing upon
record. The prosecutions for witchci'aft in New England were numerous,
and they continued, with little intermission, principally at Salem, during
the greater part of the year 1692. The accusations were of the most vul-
gar and contemptible sort — invisible pinchings and blows, fits, with the
blastings and mortality of cattle, and wains stuck fast in the ground, or
losino- their wheels. A conspicuous feature in nearly the whole of these
stories, was what they named "• the spectral sight," or, in other words, that
the profligate accusers first feigned, for the most part, the injuries they re-
ceived, and next saw the figures and action of the persons who inflicted
them, when they were invisible to every one else. Hence the miserable
prosecutors gained the power of gratifying the wantonness of their malice,
by pretending that they suffered by the hand of any one against whom they
had an ill will. The persons so charged, though unseen by any one but
the accuser, and who in their corporal presence were at a distance of miles,
and were doubtless wholly unconscious of the mischief that was hatching
against them, were immediately taken up, and cast into prison. And what
was more monstrous and incredible, there stood the prisoner on trial for his
life, while the witnesses were permitted to swear that his spectre had
haunted them, and afliicted them with all manner of injuries !
The first specimen of tliis sort of accusation was given by one Paris, a
minister of a church at Salem, in the end of the year 1691, who had two
daughters, one nine years old, the other eleven, who were afflicted with fits
and convulsions. The first person fixed on as the mysterious author of
these evils, was Tituba, a female slave in the family, and she was ha-
rassed by her master into a confession of unlawful practices and spells.
The girls then fixed on Sarah Good, a female, known to be the ^nctim of a
morbid melancholy, and Osborne, a poor man who had for a considerable
time been bed-ridden, as persons whose spectres had perpetually haunted
and tormented them, and Good was, twelve months afterwards, hanged on
this accusation.
A person, who was one of the first to fall vmder the imputation, was one
George Burroughs, also a minister of Salem. He had, it seems, buried two
wives, both of whom the busy gossips said he had used ill in their life-time,
and, consequently, it was whispered he had murdered them. He was ac-
customed, foolishly, to vaunt that he knew what people said of him in his
absence, and thiis was brought as a proof that he dealt with the devil. Two
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 475
■women, who were witnesses against liim, interrupted their tcstimonj'' with
exclaiming that they saw the ghosts of the murdered wives present (who
had promised them they would come), though no one else in the court saw
them ; and this was taken in evidence. Burroughs conducted himself in a
very injudicious way on his trial ; but, when he came to be hanged, made
so impressive a speech on the ladder, with fervent protestations of innocence,
as melted many of the spectators into tears.
The accusations, founded upon such stories as these, spread, with won-
derful rapidity. In Salem, many were seized with fits, exhibited frightful
contortions of their limbs and features, and became a fearful spectacle to
the bystanders. They were asked to assign the cause of all this ; and pre-
tended to suppose, that they saw some neighbour, already solitary and
afflicted, and on that account in ill odour with the townspeople, scowling
upon, threatening, and tormenting them. Presently persons, specially gifted
with the ' spectral sight,' formed a class by themselves, and were sent about
at the public expense from place to place, that they might see what no one
else could see. The prisons were filled with the persons accused, and the
utmost horror was entertained, as of a calamity which in such a degree had
never before visited that part of the world. It happened, most imfortu-
nately, that Baxter's " Certainty of the World of Spirits" had been pul)lished
but the year before, and a number of copies had been sent out to New Eng-
land. There seemed a strange coincidence and sympathy between vital
Christianity in its most honourable sense, and the fear of the devil, who ap-
peared to be " come down unto them, with great wrath." Mr. Increase
Mather, and INIr. Cotton Mather, his son, two clergymen of the highest
reputation in the neighbourhood, by the solemnity and awe with which
they treated the subject, and the earnestness and zeal which they displayed,
gave a sanction to the lowest superstition and virulence of the ignorant.
All the forms of justice were brought forward on this occasion. There was
no lack of judges, and grand juries, and petty juries, and executioners, and
still less of prosecutors and witnesses. The first person that was hanged
was on the 10th of June, five more on the 19th of July, five on the 1 9th
of August, and eight on the 22nd of September. Multitudes confessed that
they were witches ; for this appeared the only way for tlie accused to save
their lives. Husbands and children fell down on their knees, and implored
their wives and mothers to own their guilt. Many were tortured by being
tied neck and heels together, till they confessed whatever was suggested to
them. It is remarkable, however, that not one persisted in her confession
at the place of execution.
The most interesting story that occurred in this affiiir, was of Giles Cory,
and Martha, his wife. The woman was tried on the 9th of September, and
hanged on the 'i'ind. In the interval, on the 16th, the husband was brought
up for trial. He said he was not guilty ; but being asked how he would
be tried, he refused to go through the customary form, and say, " By God,
and my country." He observed that, of all that had been tried, not one
had as yet been pronounced not guilty ; and he resolutely refused in that
mode to undergo a trial. The judge directed, therefore, that according to
the barbarous mode prescribed in the mother country, he should be laid on
his back, and pressed to death with weights gradually accumulated on the
upper surface of his body, a proceeding which had never yet been I'esorted
to by the English in North America. ' The man persisted in his resolution,
and remained mute till he expired.
476 TIIK NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
The whole of this dreadful tragedy, says Mr. Godwin, in his " Lives of
the Necromancers," was kept together by atliread. The spectre- seers, for
a considerable time, prudently restricted their accusations to persons of ill
repute, or otherwise of uo consequence in the community. By-and-bye,
however, they lost sight of this caution, and pretended they saw the figures
of some persons well connected, and of unquestioned honour and reputation,
engaged in acts of witchcraft. Immediately the whole fell through in a
moment. The leading inhabitants presently saw how unsafe it would be
to trust their reputaticjus and their lives to the mercy of these profligate
accusers. Of fifty-six bills of indictment that were offered to the grand
jury on the 3rd of January, 1693, twenty-six only were found true bills,
and thirty thrown out. On the twenty-six bills that were found, three
persons only were pronounced guilty by the petty jury, and these three re-
ceived their pardon from the government. The prisons were thrown open ;
fifty confessed witches, together with two hundred persons imprisoned on
suspicion, were set at liberty, and no more accusations were heard of. The
" afflicted," as they were technically termed, recovered their health; the
'■• spectral sight " was universally scouted ; and men began to wonder how
they could ever have been the victims of so horrible a delusion.
Dr. Cook, in his General and Historical Review of Christianity, gives a
melancholy description of the condemnation of a woman for witchcraft,
by a tribunal at Geneva, about the middle of the seventeenth century.
An enumeration of some of the particulars of this case will afford a
tolerably correct notion of the horrible cruelty, which, in almost all
proceedings against witchcraft, was practised in different parts of Europe.
The woman Avas accused of having sent devils into two young women,
and of having brought distempers upon several others, — a charge suffi-
ciently vague. To substantiate the accusation, the members of the tribunal
availed themselves of an opinion, that the devil imprinted certain marks
upon his chosen disciples, the effect of which was, that no pain could be
produced by any application to the parts of the body where these marks
w^ere. They sent two surgeons to examine whether such marks could be
discovered in the accused ; who reported, not much to the credit of their
medical skill and philosophy, that they had found a mark, and that,
having thrust a needle into it, the length of a finger, she had felt no pain,
and that no blood had issued from the wound. Being brought to the bar,
the prisoner denied the statement of the surgeons ; upon which she was
examined by three more, with whom were joined two physicians. It
might have been expected that a body of men, who had received a liberal
education, and who must have had some acquaintance with the nature and
construction of the human frame, would have presented a report, showing
the absurdity of the examination upon which they were employed. This,
however, did not occur to them ; for they gravely proceeded to thrust
sharp instruments into the mark ali'eady mentioned, and into others which
they thought they had found out ; but, as the miserable patient gave plain
mdication that she suffered from their operations, they were staggered, and
satisfied themselves with declaring, tliat tliere was something extraordinary
in the marks, and that they were not perfectly like those commonly to be
seen in witches. She was, notwithstanding, doomed to another investiga-
tion, the result of which was, that after some barbarous experiments, she
felt no pain, and hence it was inferred that the marks were satauical. She
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 477
had. previously to tliis last inquiry, been actually put to the rack ; but she
retained her fortitude and presence of mind, firmly maintaining that she
had sent no devils into the persons whom it was alleged she had thus
injured. She was again threatened with the torture ; and, from dread of
undergoing it, made a confession, which it is painful to think was not at
once discerned to be the raving of insanity. Similar proceedings were
continued ; and the conclusion of the whole was, that she was condemned
to be hanged and burned, for giving up herself to the devil, and for
bewitching two girls !
We conclude this article by the well-known case of the trial and
acquittal of Lady Fowlis.
Catherine Ross, Lady Fowlis, was the daughter of Ross of Balnagown,
and second wife of the fifteenth Baron of Fowlis. The object of her crimes
was to destroy her step-sons, Robert and Hector Monro, with about thirty
of their principal kinsmen, in order that her own children might succeed
to the possessions of their father, which were considerable, and lay in the
counties of Ross, Sutherland, and Inverness. Her brother, George Ross,
seems to have been in league with her for the accomplishment of this
diabolical purpose, and his wife, the young Lady Balnagown, was marked
out as a victim, whose removal, with that of the rest of the family, might
pave the way for his marriage with the wife of Robert Monro, the young
laird. Their schemes were brought into active operation in the summer of
1577. Towards the end of that year, four of their accomplices, Agnes
Roy, Christian Ross, of Canorth, William M'Gillievoricdam, and Thomas
M'Kane 3Iore M'Allan M'Evoch, were arraigned in a justice court, held
in the Cathedral Kirk of Ross, convicted, and burnt. One of the judges
who presided at this trial, was Robert Monro, the husband of the prin-
cipal instigator of the crimes, and father of the family whose lives were
practised against. Lady Fowlis, upon the discovery of her wickedness,
fled into the county of Caithness, and, after remaining there for the space
of three quarters of a year, her husband was persuaded to receive her
home aofain : and she seems to have lived unmolested during the rest
of the life of the old baron ; and even the young laird, for whose destruc-
tion she had perseveringly laboured, made no exertion to bring her to
justice. His brother Hector, however, on succeeding him in ! 590, pro-
cured a commission for the punishment of certain witches and sorcerers,
which was understood to be aimed at his step-mother ; but before he had
time to act upon the power thus granted, she had influence enough to
obtain a suspension of the commission ; and it was not till July 1591 that
she was brought to trial. The evidence mainly rested upon, was that of
the notoriety of the facts, and the confession of the accomplices ; each count
of the indictment closed with a reference to the record of the process before
the provincial court, with the occasional addition of " as is notour," " as is
manifest be the haill countie of Roiss," or words to that effect. The verdict
was favourable to the accused ; but Mr. Pitcairn is of opinion, that her
escape was owing to her powerful influence. " The inquest," he says,
" bears all the appearance of a selected or packed jury, being very inferior
in rank and station of life, contrary to the usual custom." The dittory or
indictment is the only part of the proceedings that is preserved ; indeed,
the reading of it seems to have constituted the whole case of the prosecutor,
aud the simple denial of the " samin and the haill poyntis thereof," the
478 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
whole case for the accused ; after which tlie jury retired to consider their
verdict.
Tlie first method adopted to compass the deaths of the persons who
stood in the way of her ambition, was to form figures to represent the
young Laird of Fowlis and the young Lady Balnagown, which were to
be shot at with elf-an-ows, in conformity with the belief, that, if these
charmed weapons struck the typical bodies, the wounds would be felt in
the real bodies, and produce invisibly the desired effect. For the perform-
ance of the necessary rites, a meeting of three witches took place in the
house of Christian Ross, at Canorth, Christian herself being one of them,
Lady Fowlis another, and Marjory M'Allester, a hag of pecuhar eminence,
distiuouished also by the name of Loskie Loncart, the third. Having
constructed two images of clay, they placed them on the north side of the
western chamber, and Loskie, producing two elf- arrows, delivered one to
Christian Ross, who stood by with it in her hand, while, with the other,
Lady Fowlis shot twice at the figure of Lady Balnagown, and Loskie
three times at that of Robert Monro, without success. In the mean time,
the imao-es not having been properly compacted, crumbled to pieces ; and
their purpose bemg thus thwarted for the present, the unhallowed con-
vocation broke up, Loskie having engaged, at the command of Lady Fowlis,
to make two other figures. M'Gillievoricdam seems now to have been
taken into their counsels ; and by his advice, an image in butter of the
younc Laird of Fowlis was placed by the side of the wall in the same
western chamber of Canorth, and shot at eight times with an elf-arrow by
Loskie, without effect. This was on the 2nd of July, 1577 ; and nothing
discouraged by repeated failures, a clay figure of the same person was
constructed on the 6th, when the indefatigable Loskie discharged the elf-
arrow twelve times, sometimes reaching the image, but never wounding
it. The other two hags stood by, anxiously watcliing for a successful shot,
Christian Ross having provided three quarters of fine linen cloth, to be
bound about the typical corpse, which was to be interred opposite the gate
of the Stank of Fowhs, in order to complete the enactment by a full repre-
sentation of every circumstance which they were desirous of producing as
its consequence. The main part of the rite, however, consisted in the
infliction of a wound; and this not having been accomplished, they desisted
from the vain labour.
The more secret arts of witchcraft having failed to effect the desired
ends, Lady Fowlis next had recourse to poison ; and numerous were the
consultations held to concoct drugs and devise means for administering
them. The same assistants figured as the chief agents in this equally
abominable work. A stoup full of poisoned ale was first mixed in the
barn of Drumnyer, but opportunity not serving for its immediate use, it
was kept three nights in the kiln, and the stoup being leaky, the liquor
was lost, all but a very small quantity ; to prove the strength of which,
Lady Fowlis caused her servant lad, Donald Mackay, to swallow it. The
three confederates were assembled on this occasion, and as the draught did
not kill the boy, but only threw him into a state of stupor, Loskie Loncart
was dismissed, with an injunction to make " ane pig-fu!l of ranker
poysoune." The obedient hag prepared the potion, and sent it to her
patroness, by whom it was delivered to her nurse, 3Iary 3Iore, to be
conveyed to Angus Leith's house, where the young laii-d then was, that it
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 479
might be employed for his destruction. Night was the time chosen for
despatching her on this errand : she broke tlie vessel by the way, spilt the
liquor, and, wishing probably to ascertain the nature of wliat had been
intrusted to her under such circumstances of mystery, tasted it, and paid
the forfeit of her curiosity with her life ; and what helps to show the
deadly qualities of their preparation, the indictment adds, that " the place
quhair the said pig brak, the gers that grew upon the samin wes so birch
by (beyond) the natur of other gers, that nather cow nor scheip evir
preavit (tasted) thairof." It were endless to detail all the traffickings and
messengers kept scouring the country to collect the required quantity of
poison. Loskie Loncart was lodged and maintained a wliole summer in
Christian Ross's house, for the greater convenience of assisting to drug
drinks, and devise means of administering them. M'Gillievoricdam was
sent to consult the gipsies about the most effectual Avay of poisoning the
young laird. He also purchased a quantity of the powder used to destroy
rats, of a merchant in Elgin, and another portion in Tain, and was strictly
questioned by Lady Fowlis, whether it would suit best to mix the ingre-
dient with egg, brose, or kail. No fitting opportunity seems to have
occurred for administering any of the portions to Robert Monro ; but, after
three interviews, John M'Farquhar, Lady Balnagown's cook, was pre-
vailed upon by the present of two ells of grey cloth, a shirt, and twelve
and fourpence (Scots), to lend them his aid in accomplishing their purpose
on his mistress. That young lady being to entertain a party of friends one
night at her house at Ardmore, a witch, named Catherine Mynday, carried
poison thither to M'Farquhar, who poured it on the principal dish, which
was kidneys. This woman remained to witness the effects, and afterwards
declared that she " skunnerit," or revolted at the sight, which was ^ the
sarest and maist cruell that evir scho saw, seeing the vomit and vexacioun
that was on the young Lady Balnagown and her company/' The victim
of these horrible practices did not die immediately, but contracted a deadly
sickness, " quhairin," says the indictment, " scho remains yet (that is
twelve years after taking the poison) incurable."
The persons named as privy to the designs of Lady Fowlis were numer-
ous, and included the daughter of a baronet of her own name, whose
interest in the matter seems to have been merely that of a connexion, or,
at most, a clanswoman ; and the bribes with which she purchased assist-
ance and secrecy were of the paltriest kind. She provided lodgings in the
houses of her adherents, for some whom she wished to have near her, for
the better maturing of her schemes. The cook of young Lady Balnagown
was bx'ibed, as we have seen, with little more than a shirt and a shilling
sterling ! The fidelity of Cliristian Ross was bespoken, by reminding her
that she ought not to reveal anything against one who was her lady and
mistress. Another of the gang was paid with ' ane-half furlett of meilL'
M'Gillievoricdam got four ells of linen for his trouble, but, besides, ap-
propriated six and eightpence (Scots) of the money given to him to be ex-
pended for poison ; at other times, however, this person was conciliated
with '20s.. a firlot of meal, five ells of linen, and 16.?. The brother of Ladv
rowlis is also said to have promised to Thomas IM'Kane More M'Allan
M'Evoch 'ane garmounthe of clais' (suit of clothes) for his services in the
same base plot.
From a review of this whole case, with others of the same date, it will
480 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
appear that the crimes of former times were distinguished from those of the
present day, not so much by the greater atrocity of any single act, as by the
length of time for which they were meditated, and the number of persons
admitted to a knowledge of them, without any fear of disclosure. They
were the offspring of habitual thought rather than the effect of sudden
starts of passion.
Immediately after the acquittal of Lady Fowlis, her step-son and prose-
cutor, the seventeenth Baron of Fowlis, was presented at the bar on an accu-
sation in some respects similar, of which he also was found not guilty, by a
jury, the majority of whom had sat on the preceding trial. In January,
1588-9, this gentleman being taken ill, sent a servant with his own horse,
to bring to his assistance Marion ]\I'Ingarach, who is characterised as
being ' ane of the maist notorious and rank wichis in all this realme,' and
who, as soon as she entered the house where he lay sick, gave him three
drinks of water from three stones (probably rude stone cups). After a
long consultation, she declared there was no hope of recovery, unless the
principal man of tlie patient's house should suffer death for him; and it
was determined, after some discussion, that this substitute should be George
Monro, eldest son of Catharine Monro, Lady Fowlis. A plan was next
devised for transferring the onus moriendi, for the present, to George ; ac-
sordino- to which, in the first place, no person was to have admittance to
the house in which Hector lay, until his half-brother came ; and on his
arrival, the sick man, with his left hand, was to take his visitor by the
right, and not to speak until spoken to by him. In conformity with these
injunctions, several friends, who called to inquire for the patient, were ex-
cluded, and messengers were despatched, both to George Monro's house
and to other parts of the country, where he was thought to be engaged in
the sports of the chase. Before he could be found, seven expresses had
been sent after him, and five days expired. On the intelligence that his
brother desired earnestly to see him, he repaired to the place, and was re-
ceived in the form prescribed by the witch. Hector with his hand grasping
George's right, and abstaining from speaking until asked " how he did," to
which he replied, "the better that you have come to visit me," and he uttered
not a word more, notwithstanding his urgency to obtain an interview. The
younger Monro having, in this manner, been brought fairly within the
compass of the witch's spells, she that night mustered certain of her accom-
plices, and having provided spades, repaired to a spot where two lairds'
lands met, and, at 'ane after midnycht,' digged a grave of the exact length
of Hector Monro, and laid the turf of it carefully aside. They then came
home, and M'Ingarach gave her assistants instructions concerning the
part that each was to perform in the remaining ceremonies. The object —
namely, the preservation of Hector's life and the death of George in his
stead — being now openly stated, some of those present objected, that if tlie
latter should be cut oft' suddenly, the hue and cry would be raised, and all
their lives would be in danger. They therefore pressed the presiding witch
not to make the sacrifice immediately, but to cause it to follow after such
an interval as might obviate suspicion, which she accordingly engaged to
accomplish, and warranted him to live till the 17th day of the ensuing
April, at least. This being arranged to the satisfaction of the persons
assembled, the sick man was laid in a pair of blankets, and carried out to
the place where the grave had been prepared. The party were strictly
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 481
enjoined to be silent, and only M'Ingarrach, and Christian Neil], Hectoi's
foster-mother, were to utter the necessary incantations. Being come to
the si)ot, their living burden was deposited in the grave, the turf being
spread over him, and held down with staves. M'Ingarrach stood by
the side of the grave, and Neill, holding a boy, a son of Hector Leith, by
the hand, ran the breadth of nine rings, then returned, and demanded,
' which is your choice ?' Thereupon the other replied, ' Mr. Hector, I
choose you to live, and your brother George to die for you.' This form of
conjuration was twice gone througli that night ; and, on its completion,
the sick man was lifted, cai'ried home — not one of the company uttering a
word further — and replaced in bed.
To the efficacy of this spell was attributed not only tlie recovery d
Hector, but the death of George Monro, though the latter continued in per-
fect health not only for the time warranted by the witch, but for a year
longer. He was taken ill in Ai>ril, 1590, and died on the J3rd of June
following. M'Ingarrach was higlily favoured by the gentleman who
supposed he owed to her his life. As soon as his health was I'estored, ' be the
d^wilisch moyan foirsaid,' he carried her to the house of his uncle at Kil-
urmmody, where she was entertained with as much obsequious attention
as if she had been liis spouse, and obtained such pre-eminence in the
country that no one durst offend her, tliough her ostensible character was
only that of keeper to his sheep. Upon the information of Lady Fowlis,
the protector of M Ingarrach was com;ielIed to present her at Aberdeen,
where she was examined before the king, and produced the stones out of
which she had made the baron drink. Tliese enchanted cups were de-
livered to the keeping of the justice clerk; but we are not informed as to
the fate of the witch herself.
The indictrntni cluirged the prisoner that 'ye gat yowr health be the
develisch means foirsaid,' And further, it said, 'ye are indicted for art
and part of tlie cruel, odious, and shameful slaughter of the said George
Monro, your brotlier, by tlie enchantments and witchcrafts used upon him
by you and of your devise, by speaking to him within youre bed, taking of
him by the right hand, conform to the injunctions given to you by the said
Marian Ingarrach, inthe said month of January, 1389 years; throic the ichich
inchantmentis he tuke ane deidlie seiknets in the moncth of Apryle^ 1590
yetris^ and contineic and thalr'm until Junii thairaftei\ diceissit in the
said moneth of Junii ^ being the third day of that instant!'
JAMES HARDY YAUX,
TRANSPORTED VOR PRIVATELY STEALING.
The adventures of James Hardy Yaux are not inferior in interest to
those of the renowned Guzman d'Alfarache, or Lazarillo de Tormes, and
like those celebrated rogues, in order tliat the public may profit by his
example, he has given the world a narrative of his exploits, in wliich
philosophers may read the workings of an unprincipled conscience, the
legislator may discover the effect of the existing laws upon the mind of a
criminal, and by means of which tlie citizen may learn to detect the
frauds by which he is so constantly, and, but too frequently, so success-
VOL. I. ' 3 Q
4S2 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
fully beset. So excellent a moral is to be derived from the memoirs of this
criminal, well written as they appear to be, that we shall furnish the
reader with occasional extracts from them, giving an abridgment of those
portions of them which present features of less interest.
James Hardy Vaux was born at Guildford, in the county of Surrey, in
the year 1782, where iiis father, who was a foreigner, lived in the service
of a Mr. Sumner, as cook and house- steward. It appears that the mother
of this unfortunate man was born of higlily respectable parents, her father
being a ]\Ir. Lowe, a solicitor in London, and that her mai'riage with her
husband took place much against the wishes of her friends. In 1785,
]\Ir. Lowe retired from business, and going to live in the country, he took
with him his little grandson, whom he treated with parental fondness ;
sent him to school, and gave him a liberal education, such as to qualify him
for his own profession. j\Irs. Yaux's first imprudence had partially alien-
ated the affections of her parents, and her subsequent conduct did not tend
to restore their good opinion. Young Yaux, therefore, was entirely aban-
doned to the care of his grandfather and grandmother, and he complains
tb.at his natural parents never treated him with anything like a proper
affection.
After six years' residence in the country, !Mr. Lowe was prevailed upon
to live with his daughter and son-in-law, who had recently commenced
the hat business at Great Turnstile, Ilolborn. Young Yaux, being at
this time nine years old, was sent to a respectable boarding-school at
Stockwell ; and after three years he returned to his grandfather, who had
quitted, in consequence of family disagreements, the house of his son-in-
law, and then resided in one of the squares. Mrs. Lowe's healtli declining,
tlie family removed to "Wisbeach, Cambridgeshire, where they continued
for some time, and then returned to their original residence in Shropshire,
youno- Yaux being now fourteen years of age. Here he became acquainted
with the son of John Maultrie, Esq., a resident in the vicinity, and, on
that youth's removal to college, his father proposed to pay for Yaux to
accompany him ; but his indecision and obstinacy rendered the proffered
kindness of no avail. The army or navy was his ambition ; but, as his
grandfather would not consent to his entering either of these professions,
the desire was abandoned, and, after much hesitation, he was ultimately
bound an apprentice to Parker and Co. linen-drapers, at Liverpool.
As this step may be called his first entrance into life, we will let him
speak for himself, as his conduct in his first situation clearly indicates his
character, while it forcibly reminds youth of the danger they run in yield-
ing to the first incentives to crime. " I was now," said Hardy Yaux,
" turned of fourteen ; my health and constitution good, my spirits elevated,
and I felt all those pleasing sensations which naturally arise in a youthful
mind, happy in conscious innocence, and flattered by the prospect of rising
to honourable independence. The gaiety and bustle of this beautiful and
improving borough at once charmed and amused me ; I spent a week in
viewing the public buildings, the environs, &:c. ; but, above all, my ad-
miration was excited by the numerous and capacious docks, by which
ships of large burden are admitted, as it were, into the heart of the town,
ami discharge their rich and varied cargoes with surprising facility,
M hicli are deposited in spacious warehouses, of amazing extent, and from
twelve to fourteen stories high, with which these noble docks are nearly
surrounded.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 483
" The opportunities I had, during my residence in Liverpool, of viewing
tl:e daily arrivals and sailings of mei'cbant ships to and from all parts of
the world, particularly the Guineamen, which formed a remarkably fine
class of vessels, revived the latent desire I had for a seafaring life ; and I
wanted but little incitement, had the smallest opportunity offered, to take
French leave of my mastei's, and gratify my rambling propensity. How-
ever, the bustle in which I was continually involved, and tlie new scenes
of amusement which every succeeding day presented, suppressed the
inclination for a time ; but that it was not totally subdued Avill be
seen hereafter. The establishment and economy of our house were upon
the most regular plan ; the former consisted of six apprentices (myself
among the niunber), and four assistants at very liberal stipends, besides, a
nephew of the elder partner, who superintended the whole and officiated
in the counting-house ; there were also several porters and other subordi-
nates, for all of whom full employment was found. Being the junior
apprentice, it was my province to polish the counters, trim the lamps,
carry out small parcels, and to perform other inferior duties ; when disen-
gaged fi*om whicli, I assisted in waiting on retail customers and making
myself otherwise useful behind the counter. We had a plentiful table
appropriated to us, to which we retired in turn during tlie hours of busi-
ness, commodious and airy chambers, and, in short, we enjoyed every
comfort we could desire. For the first month of my probation I behaved
extremely well, and by my quickness and assiduity gained the good
opinion of my employers, who wrote of me in the most favourable
terms to my friends in Shropshire ; nor did my expenses exceed my
allowance for pocket-money, which was fully adequate to every rational
enjoyment.
" Among my fellow- apprentices was a young man named King, some
years older tlian myself, with whom, from a similarity of sentiment, I formed
a close intimacy. He was of an excellent disposition, but a great lover of
pleasure ; and as his servitude was far advanced, and his prospects pecu-
liarly flattering, he was under very little restraint, but gave the rein to his
passion for dissipation. His expenses were profuse, but whether he
indulged in them at the expense of his probity I could never ascertain.
He soon introduced me to several young men of his own stamp, and I be-
came in a short time as great a rake as the best of them : nor was our con-
versation confined to our own sex, scarcely a night passing without our
visiting one or other of those houses consecrated to the Cyprian Goddess,
with which the town of Liverpool abounds. In such a course of life, it is
not likely that I could submit to limited hours : my companions and I
seldom returned home before midnight, and sometimes not until the ensu-
ing morning. Though we took measures to keep this from the ears of our
employers, it could not fail to be known in time ; and the consequence was
a strong but tender remonstrance on my imprudence, which much alfected
me at the moment ; but the impression was transitory and soon effaced. I
plunged deeper and deeper into the vortex of folly and dissipation, until I vras
obliged to have recourse for advice to the vEsculapius of Gilead House.
Tiiis irregular mode of life had borne hard upon my finances, and I had not,
as yet, had recourse to fraud or peculation. I was liberally supplied by
my relations on leaving Shropshire, and had received my first quarterly
allowance; b it au event, whii'li eoon followed, tempted me to the first
484 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
breach of confidence and integrity. I had in my youth been passionately
fond of cocking-, a sport for whicli tlie county of tSalop has been always
famed ; and, tliough so young, I had constantly kept several cocks at
walk, unknown to my parents; so that I had acquired a considei'able
share of experience and knowledge on the subject. One day, when I was
sent with some muslins to wait on a lady in the environs of Liverpool, near
the canal, I accidentally passed a cockpit, where a great crowd was assem-
bled ; and I understood tiiat a grand main was about to commence. Elated
at this pleasing intelligence, I hastened to execute my commission ; and
returning to the house, entered it, and, learving my wrapper of goods in the
care of the landlady, I ascended to the pit, and took my seat. The com-
pany was, as usual, of a motley description ; but there were many genteel
persons. I A'entured a few trifling bets at first with various success; but
at length an opportunity offering, which I considered as next to a cer-
tainty, I laid the odds to a large amount, flattermg myself that, by this
stroke of judgment, I should be enabled to figure away with increased
eclat among my gay companions. After I had so done, greater odds were
still vociferated ; but in a moment the scene was changed ! the fallen cock,
in the agonies of death, made a desperate effort, and, rising for a moment,
cut the throat of his antagonist, who was standing over him, in the act oi
crowing with exultation on his victory ! The latter immediately fell,
choked with the effusion of blood, nor did the victor survive him many
moments. The whole pit resounded with acclamation, and the discord
wliich ensued beggars description. I was not the only sufferer by this
revolution of fortune ; many others had laid higlier odds than myself, and
to a much greater amount. I was soon surrounded by my creditors, to
whom I disbursed every shilling I had about me, among which were some
pounds I had just received from the lady for goods, and for which I had
given her a receipt. I was still something deficient, for which I pledged
my honour to one of the parties, giving my address, and j'iromising payment
on an early day. I now returned home, filled with remorse and shame ;
but, as the first false step of a young person insensibly leads to another, I
added to my guilt by concealing the affair from my employers, and directed
them to book the articles the lady had selected. I had a degree of false
shame about me, which rendered me incapable of 'confessing the truth and
promising amendment, or .all might still have been well. In the evening I
had recourse to the bottle to drown my chagrin ; and I determined to pur-
loin a certain sum every day, in the course of my attendau'ie on retail cus-
tomers, until I had liquidated my debt of honour ! Then I vowed to stop
and reform. Delusive idea ! \\o\v little did I then know my own weak-
ness, or the futility of such xesolutions in a young mind ! And who, that
once begins a career of vice, can say to himself, " Thus far will I go, and no
farther ?" After I had discharged my engagement I found a small sum
must be raised for pocket-money, and other exigencies, as it would be
above two months before I could expect a remittance.
" I therefore continued my peculation, and at length my evil genius sug-
gested to me, that I might, by venturing a small sum, become more fortu-
nate at the cock-pit, and repair the loss I had sustained ; as miracles don't
happen every day, and the odds must win in the long run. Thus I argued
witii myself; and, fatally for me, I tried the experiment.
" From this moment I never missed a day's fighting at the cock -pit ; and
r
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 4S5
when sent on business which required my speedy return, I could not tear
myself from the spot, but frequently stayed out several hours, and, after-
wards forged a lie to account for my delay. I sometimes came oft" a winner ;
but, as I was not then acquainted with the art of hedging, by which the
knowing ones commonly saved themselves, I was sure to be a loser at every
week's end. But I managed matters so well, that my frequent secre-
tions from the till were not discovered, however they might be suspected.
The extensive trade of the shop rendered it next to impossible ; and what I
abstracted was a trifle compared to the gross receipts of the day. jMy con-
tinued misconduct became now the subject of frequent remonstrances on tlie
part of JMr. Parkei", the resident partner ; wrhicli not having had the de-
sired effect, that gentleman wrote to my friends, informing them in geneial
terms that I had unhappily formed improper connexions, aiul that my late
levity of conduct rendered me unfit to be received into their house ; there-
fore desiring I might be recalled without delay. Mr. Parker conchuk'd
with a remark, which I shall never forget, and which was peculiarly grati-
fying to my grandfather's (perhaps too partial) feelings : after expatiating
on my general capacity for business, he added, ' his smartness and activity
are really wonderful.' This letter produced a speedy answer, in conse-
quence of which I was directed to hasten my departure, which took place
in a few days, IMr. Parker giving me a great deal of wholesome advice at
parting ; observing that although it was not in his power to charge me
with any direct criminality, my inconsiderate behaviour, and the con-
tinued excesses of my conduct, left but too much room for unfavourable
conjectures.
" Behold me now returned to my grandfather, after an absence of nearly
five months ; and this excursion may be called my first entrance into life.
I could not help blushing at the consciousness of my own unworthiness ;
but the blind partiality of my dear parents induced them to believe me
less culpable than I really was, and to listen readily to anytliing I had to
offer in palliation of my errors."
Having now tasted the vicious cup of pleasure, Yaux found a village too
limited a sphere for his ambition, and resolved to try his fortune in Lon-
don. His grandfather, having many friends in his own profession, gave
him letters of introduction, which, on his arrival in the metropolis^ procured
him a situation as copying clerk in a solicitor's office. Resolving to bo
master of his own conduct, he did not visit the house of his father, who by
this time had tried many businesses, but was imfurtunate in all ; but took
private lodgings, and for three months conducted himself with great pro-
priety. But, getting acquainted with several young persons of both sexes,
he gradually gave way to dissipation, visited the theatres, and became
irregular in his attendance at his office, in consequence of which he was
formally dismissed.
Finding it still necessary to have some employment, he procured,
through one of his dissipated companions, the son of a wealthy citizen,
a situation, as clerk in the warehouse of Messrs. Key and Sons, whole-
sale stationers, in Abchurch Lane, Lombard Street, at a guinea a week.
Here, however, he continued but for a short time ; for he could not
endure a confinement in the East End, so far from the resort of his old
acquaintances, who chiefly frequented Covent Garden and the purlieus of
Drury Lane.
486 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
" During an abode," says he, " of ten months in London, as I was fre-
quently puslied for money, I availed myself of a genteel appearance, and
])retty good address ; and, taking advantage of the credulity of several
tradesmen in the neighbourhood, I ordered wearing apparel of various kinds,
and sometimes other goods, upon credit, without much concern about the
day of payment ; however, I always took care to procure a bill of parcel?
with the articles, which precluded any charge of fraud, and left the matter,
at the worst, but a debt contracted ; for which, being a minor, I knew I
could not be arrested. This was my first deviation from honesty since I
left Liverpool. I was also frequently obliged to change my lodgings ; and,
as payment of my rent would have required ready money, for which I had
so many otlier uses, I commonly decamped under favour of the night, having
previously removed my effects by various stratagems. As I Avas ashamed
to let my grandfather know the true state of my affairs, and as I really
grieved at the expenses I had already caused him, which I knew had much
inconvenienced him, I forbore at last to trouble him for remittances; but
falsely assured him that I was doing well, and enabled to live upon the profits
of my industry. I desired he would abandon the idea of articling
me to the law, as the expenses attending admission had of late years been
so much increased by stamp duties ; and as I could, if I continued the
study, at a future period, practise under tlie sanction of another person's
name ; a custom then very prevalent, though irregular. By these assur-
ances I quieted the good old man, and silenced any inquiries my friends
might have instituted respecting me ; as I now really wished to continue
free from all restraint upon my person or actions, and foolishly flattered
myself that I should, by some lucky event, ultimately secure the means of
independence. These conjectures were, however, perfectly vague, and pro-
ceeding from no fixed idea whatever.
" On quitting my city employment, I returned to the law, for which I
still retained a partiality ; and obtained a more liberal salary than before
in an office equally respectable. Indeed I was now become more useful,
and had improved much, both in person and address, since my arrival in
town.
" I was still frequently reduced to pecuniary straits, and obliged to have
recourse to various expedients, known only to men of the town, for my
support : some of them, indeed, were bordering on dishonesty, and none of
them very honourable. But to describe them iudividually is impossible ;
and a man wlio lives by his wits, as the phrase is, will assure you, if called
to account, that he really could not for his life tell by what distinct means
he makes out a living.
" As I now wrote uncommonly fast, I quitted the station of a weekly
clerk, and obtained writings to copy by the sheet, from the law-stationers,
by which I could earn considerably more money ; and in this employment
I continued to labour diligently for several hours every day, and sometimes
half the night.
" When I had a mind to relax from this occupation, and particularly if
ray finances were at a low ebb, I frequently resorted to the Blue Lion, in
(irray's Inn Lane, a house noted for selling fine ale, and crowded every
night by a motley assemblage of visitors, among whom were many thieves,
sharpers, and otlier desperate characters, with their doxies. I was intro-
duced to this house (from which hundreds of young persons may date
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 487
their ruin) by a fellow-clerk, who appeared to have a personal intimacy
with most of tlicse obnoxious persons ; however, though I listened eagerly
to their conversation, (part of wliich was then unintelligible to me,) and
fancied them people of uncommon spirit, I was not yet sufficiently depraved
to cultivate their acquaintance ; but sat witli a pipe in my mouth, enve-
loped in smoke, ruminating, like a philosoplier, on the various characters
wlio tread the great stage of life, and felt a sort of secret presentiment that
I was myself born to undergo a more than common share of vicissitudes
and disaj^pointments."
During his nightly resort to the Blue Lion he became acquainted with
a young man named D , who had been steward on board a king's ship,
but who had spent all his money, and had now resolved to go to Ports-
mouth, in the hope of procuring a situation similar to the one he had left.
Vaux, naturally inconstant, determined on accompanying him ; and, having
converted most of their clothes into money, they set otF on foot ; but had
not proceeded farther than Kingston when tlieir cash became exhausted,
and they owed a trifle to the mistress of the Eight Bells.
" In this dilemma," says Vaux, " a sudden thought struck me. Callincr
for pen, ink, and paper, I told my companion I had a scheme in my head
for raising a supply, but would not impart it until I had tried its success.
I then drew up a sort of memorial to the following eft'ect : — ' To the
Ladies and Gentlemen of Kingston. — The writer hereof, a young man of
respectable family, and good education, having, by a series of misfortunes,
been reduced to the greatest distress, is now on his way to Portsmouth, in
hopes of procuring a situation in the navy ; but, being destitute of money
for his present support, humbly solicits your charitable assistance towards
enabling him to pursue his journey. To a noble mind, the pleasure of
doing a good action is its own reward. The smallest donation will be
gratefully received, and any lady or gentleman mclined to relieve the
writer is earnestly requested to subscribe his or her name hereto.' — Hav-
ing completed this production, I desired my friend to wait patiently for
my return, and assured him I doubted not of bringing speedy relief. I
now set out on my expedition, and immediately waited on Mr. Mayor, who
was a grocer ; but in this first essay I was unsuccessful. His worship
declared he never encouraged applications of this sort from strangers ; and
desired me to go about my business. I, however, took the liberty of
subscribing his name to my memorial, by way of sanction, and gave his
charity credit for a donation of five shillings. Young as I was at that
time, I well knew that example, in matters of this kind, goes a great way;
and that many persons, witliout a grain of Christian benevolence in their
composition, will give liberally from motives of ostentation, when they see
that their neighbours have already contributed, and that their own names and
donations will also be made public. I experienced the truth of this notion,
for I was successful in almost every application I afterwards made. Hav-
ing visited a number of genteel houses, with various success, I was on the
point of returning, to impart my good luck to my companion, when,
coming to a very handsome mansion-house in the suburbs of the town, I
tliought I ought not to omit calling, and a person at that moment passing
by, I inquired whose residence it was, and which was the entrance to the
premises ; for the house was situated in the midst of a spacious pleasure-
ground, remote from the high road, and, it being quite dusk, I had not
483 THE NEW >EAVGATE CALENDAR.
observed any avenue by wliich I could gain access to it. I was informed
that it was the residence of Lady W ; that a little further on I should
perceive a door in the brick wall, which extended along the road-side; and
that if I entered at that door, and proceeded in a straight direction, I should
arrive at the servants' hall ; but my informer cautioned me to keep close
to another wall on my left hand, wliich divided this avenue from the lawn
in front of the mansion, because there was a very large and fierce dog at
the upper end, but which, being ckained up, could not reach me, if 1
followed the above directions. I thanked this obliging person, and
immediately proceeded to the door described, which I entered, and
walked cautiously, and not without some fear, by the wall-side, till I
perceived, by the lights in the kitchen and out- offices, that I was near the
premises.
" It was now very dark, and I was carefully exploring my way, my
mind full of apprehensions at the thought of this terrible dog ; when lo !
at that instant, to my inexpressible consternation, the ferocious animal
made a spring at me, and I gave myself up for dead. However, though
he was certainly within a yard of me, he did me no mischief; but my
alarm was so great, that, without knowing how or where to fly for refuge,
I ran precipitately from the spot ; and, when I recovered myself from the
fright, found myself in the pleasure-ground in front of the mansion-house.
It appeared that I had, without knowing, escaped through a door in the
wall, which was open on my left hand at the moment I was alarmed by
the dog. I was now more at a loss than ever, for I knew of no way to
get out of the pleasure-ground except by the aforesaid door, and fear of the
dog prevented my attempting that passage. After wandering about for a
few minutes, I approached the mansion, and, going up to one of the par-
lour windows, which were very large, and on a level with the terrace
before the house, I applied my eye to the glass, and discovered, through
an aperture in the inside shutters, a numerous and splendid party of ladies
and gentlemen at dinner. Having considered a moment, I determined
on a very bold step, as I saw no alternative but remaining all night
in the open air, exposed to the inclemency of the weather. Taking
advantao-e of a pause in the company's conversation, I tapped with my
finger at the window, and immediately the whole party were struck with
wonder. In the midst of their surprise I repeated my knock ; and then,
after several voices exclaiming ' Good God 1 there is certainly somebody
at the window,' &c. a gentleman rose from the table, and, advancing
towards me, opened first the shutters, and then the window itself, which
might, in fact, be called a pair of folding-doors ; and these being thrown
back, I walked in with the most respectful air I coidd assume, and
presented myself to the astonished company. Having bowed twice or
thrice, and given time for their alarm to subside, I began to make my
speech.
" Apologizing for my presumptuous intrusion, I stated in a concise
manner the fright I had endured from the dog, my embarrassment
at not being able to find means of egress from the pleasure-ground, and
my having consequently taken the liberty of knocking at the window.
I then presented my memorial, which was read in turn by most of the
company, each of whom surveyed me with evident surprise. Having
answered such queries as they thought proper to put to me, I was desired
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 489
by the lady of the house to withdraw to the kitchen for a short time; and
a servant was ordered to attend me thither. Here I had my story to
repeat for the information of the domestics, who langhed heartily at the
adventure of the dow, but afterwards seriously assured me that, had the
animal not been chained, or had I approached within his reach, he would
inevitably have torn mo to pieces. The parlour dinner being over, and the
disdies brought out, I was desired to fall to ; and, being really hungry, I
wanted no pressing, but selected from the variety of good things on the
table a very fine buttock of beef, on which substantial fare 1 made a
sumptuous meal. There was no scarcity of good malt liquor, and Lady
W very kindly sent me out a pint of red port, witli a particular
injunction (which, by-the-by, was unnecessary) that I should eat and drink
heartily.
" At length I was summoned to attend the company in tho parlour ; and
her ladyship then expressing her concern for my misfortunes, and her
anxious hope that I should speedily find an end to them, presented me
with half a guinea. The rest of the party also said many handsome
things, and the majority of them contributed to my relief. In addition
to these favours, one of the gentlemen at the particular request of Lady
AV , took the trouble to write a letter in my behalf to the captain of a
man-of-war, supposed to be then lying at Portsmouth, entreating him to
give me an appointment under him. Her ladyship, after obliging me to
take another glass of wine, and repeating her sorrow for my distress,
advised me to lose no time in prosecuting my journey, ordered a servant
to conduct me to the door at which I had first entered her premises, and I
took a respectful leave of this truly benevolent party.
" Returning to the Eight Bells, I imparted my adventures to my friend,
who was, of course, much pleased at my success ; for I had realised between
four and five poimds. I found this begging scheme so productive, that I
was in no hurry to pjursue the Portsmouth speculation ; and, as we were
both satisfied with our present quarters, it was agreed that we should
continue a few days longer in Kingston, in which time I proposed to
follow np my success by making a I'egular circuit among the inhabitants ,
and I, in fact, determined to levy similar contributions in every town which
lay in our route.
" It is to be observed that this idea of raising money was perfectly
original in me, for at that time I had never heard of such a practice, but
have since discovered that it is a very common expedient, and is called by
those persons who live by such impositions, ' the Letter Backet.'
"The following day I again sallied forth and met with equal success,
visiting not only the houses of private persons, but even the respectable
shopkeepers, <S:c. ; and I may here state, once for all, that in the course of
tliis as well as my subsequent speculations of the same nature, I met with
various receptions according to the charitable or churlish dispositions of tbo
people to whom I applied. Many ]>itieel my case and cheerfully relieved
me. Others expressed equal commiseration, but declined giving anything,
either because ' they never encouraged beggars,' or ' they had poor enough
of their own to maintain.' Some invited me into their parlours, treated me
with excessive politeness, and obliged me to take refreshment at their own
tables ; and where there were any young ladies in the family, I was an
object of particular solicitude, and the recital of my misfortunes drew many
y^ir.. I. 3 R
490 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
a sigli from their tender bosoms. Others desired me like the ]\Iayor of
Kingston to go about my business, and hinted that I ought to be sent to
the house of correction as a vagrant. Sometimes the servants who admitted
me refused to present my memorial, declaring that they had strict orders
from their masters or mistresses never to trouble them on such an occa-
sion. The donations I commonly received were from one shilling to five ;
sometimes, but rarely, I was presented witli gold, particularly at the seats
of the nobility and gentry ; all which lying within a short distance of the
road I travelled, I made a point of calling at; and for my information on
tliis subject, I provided myself with a comprehensive ' Book of Roads,'
in which those objects are correctly laid down. Some truly charitable
persons, but whose means were limited, relieved me with sixpence, and of
course I was bound to accept such a trifle with as much appearance of
thankfulness as I would a larger sum ; and frequently when I called at a
farm-house by the road side, I have been compelled to take some cold
meat or other eatables, wliicli I afterwards bestowed upon the first more
needy beggar I met on my way. It was my custom in general to travel
on foot, making short stages, and putting up at a good inn in every town
I entered, where I lived upon the best during my stay, and associated with
London riders, and other respectable guests. When tired of walking. I
availed myself of a passing stage-coach or return post-chaise ; and my only
equipage was a spare shirt, handkerchief, &c. which, with my ' Book of
Roads,' I carried in a small bundle under my arm."
On the evening of the second day, however, he was arrested and carried
before the masistrates, charged as a rogue and vagabond. He referred
the magistrates to one of his grandfather's friends in London ; and the
inquiries there satisfying them, he was discharged out of custody on the
second day of confinement, and hastened back to town, his companion
haviuo- proceeded to Portsmouth. After spending one dissipated evening
in London, he set out next day to Portsmouth ; and, notwitlistanding the
check he had received three days earlier, he stopped in Kingston, and
levied contributions, in the usual way, on the charitable inhabitants,
avoiding, of course, that part of the town where he had been before. This
practice he continued on the road, and after the payment of his expenses
he still had 15/. in his pocket. On his reaching Portsmouth, his fervour
for the navy cooled on his finding that his friend D had procured a
situation as a merchant's clerk, and he was, after some time, induced to
enter into the service of an attorney. A short employment was quite suf-
ficient to satisfy his industrious fit, and he soon quitted Portsmouth in
disgust, and proceeded once more towards tlie great metropolis. There liis
good fortune tlirew before him an opportunity, wliich steadiness on liis
part only required to render most advantageous. Dining one day at the
Saracen's Head, Snow Hill, he entered into conversation witli a gentleman
named Kennedy, a surgeon in the navy, who, pleased with his manner and
address, procured for him an appointment as midshipman on board the
Astrea frigate. Delighted with the prospect of at lengih entering the
navy, he wrote to his grandfather, who immediately furnished him with
100/. to purchase an outfit. On the voyage he became weary of his posi-
tion as a midshipman, and the captain being in want of a clerk, he tendered
his services and was accepted. At the conclusion of a long cruise in tlie
northern latitudes, the vessel made for England ; and on their arrival in
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 491
the Thames, Vaux proceeded to London. He there met with a dashing
Cyprian, and unmindful of the future, he remained witli her imtil all his
money was spent; and then he found that his vessel had sailed, carrying
with lier his clothes, books, and all the little property of whicli he was
possessed. Now, driven to the greatest distress, he had recourse to the
gamino-table, where for a short time he contrived, by associating with
professed gamblers, to procure a precarious existence. But the summer
approach i'Mg and dupes becoming fewer, he obtained by application to
Messrs. Dalton and Edwards, King's Bench Walk, a situation as clerk, at
one pound a week, with Mr. Dalton, a solicitor, of Bury St. Edmund's.
'• Upon the whole," says he, "this was one of the most agreeable employ-
ments I ever engaged in ; and, bad I prudently retained it for a few years,
there is no doubt I should have met with the most liberal encouragement
from my employer. But my natural inconstancy still prevailed ; and I
had been but a few weeks at Bury, before I grew tired of tlie country, and
thought of nothing bvit returning to London, with such spoil as I could
obtain from the credulity of the tradesmen in the town. "NVith this view
I bespoke clothes, boots, linen, and other articles at various sliops. inform-
ing the parties that I should expect credit till the expiration of my quarter,
to which, on account of the respectable gentleman I served, they readily
consented. As soon as any of these goods were brought home, I immedi-
ately packed them up in small portable parcels, which I sent up to London
by the coach, consigned to a pawnbroker with whom I was on intimate
terms; desiring him to receive and keep them safe until he saw me. I also
coached off, in the same clandestine manner, such of my own apparel, &c.
as I had in my trunk, in which, to prevent discovery, I deposited stones or
bricks to preserve its gravity. By these means I had nothing to impede
my sudden departure, when rendered necessary by the arrival of the
expected quarter-day.
" I must here observe, to meet any surprise the reader might feel on the
subject, that, as I had never at this time been connected with downright
thieves, so I had never yet committed an actual theft, save the embezzle-
ment of money at Liverpool ; (which indeed the law has lately made a
felonious taking ;) though I therefore scrupled not at practising a fraud, I
was not yet sufficiently depraved to commit a robbery. This will account
for my not robbing the premises of Mr. Dalton, which, at a subsequent
period of my life, would have been my primary object, as I had access to
every part of the house, and have frequently viewed with longing eyes the
servant cleaning a handsome service of plate in the pantry.
"I had now been about two months at Bury, and had no intention of
absconding till the expiration of the third; when an accidental event
induced me to hasten my departure. One afternoon ]\Ir. Dalton had
written several letters in the office, and tlie footman being elsewhei'e
engaged, he requested me to drop them in the post-office in my way home.
I accordingly brought them out in my hand, and happening inadvertently
to cast my eye on the superscriptions, I perceived that one was addressed
to Mr. Lvne, tailor, Cecil Street, Strand, London. Being curious to know
what correspondence Mr. Dalton could have with a tailor, I opened this
letter, and found the contents to the following effect : — ' ^Ir. Lyne, — By
the wagfTon which goes from hence on ^Monday next, and arrives at the
Blue Boar in Bishopsgate Street on Wednesday night, I shall send you a
492 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
portmanteau corded and sea'cd, but not locked, containing two coats,
sixteen waistcoats, fourteen pair of breeches, and a suit of uniform of the
City Light Horse. ]\Iost of these articles are nearly as good as new; but,
as they have now become unfashionable, I desire you will dispose of
them to the best advantage, on my account, and send me down by the
same conveyance two suits made in the present taste,' &c.
" It immediately struck me, that, if I took measures accordingly, I might
arrive in town time enough to intercept and obtain this trunk from the inn;
for which purpose I put this letter in my pocket, and the otliers in the
post-office. The next day, happening to go into Mr. Dalton's kitchen, I
there saw the portmanteau corded up, and directed ; and, on questionino-
tlie servant in a careless manner about it, he informed me that he was goin.cr
to carry it to the inn, the following evening, in readiness for the departure
of the waggon. Tlie same afternoon it happened (which was a most for-
tunate circumstance for me) that i\Ir. Dalton again begged of me to put
some letters in the post-office, which he had not done above twice or thrice
since I came into his service. Looking at these letters, I saw, to my sur-
prise, another addressed to Mr. Lyne as before, which, eagerly opening, I
found was to mention something Mr. Dalton said he had forgot in liis letter
of the preceding day. I immediately destroyed this second letter, which,
had it come to hand, might have frustrated my design,
" I now prepared matters for eloping, and sent off the remainder of mv
effects by the coach, as before ; but my good fortune produced another
windfall, of which I had no expectation. The day before my intended de-
parture, I was walking in the Market-place with a young man, who was
clerk to another attorney in the town ; and, the conversation turning upon
watches, my companion observed that, if I wished to purchase one, he
would introduce me to a maker of his acquaintance, who would use me
well on his account. I took him at his word, and begged he would imme-
diately do so. We were then within a few doors of the shop, into whicli
we entered ; and I perceived over the window in large characters,. ' Lum-
ley and Gudgeon, watchmakers.' I laughed inwardly at the singularity of
tlie latter name, which I considered ominous of my success in the imposi-
tion I meant to put upon him. After a short preliminary conversation, my
acquaintance, having business to do, took his leave, and Mr. Gudgeon him-
self proceeded to show me several watches. I informed him that I wished
to have a good one, but my circumstances would not allow me to go to a
high price. Mr. Gudgeon assured me it was better to have a good one at
once, and recommended me to a very handsome gilt watch, capped and
jewelled, and his own make, which he said he could warrant to perform
well, and for which he asked me eight guineas, I replied that, as my
weekly salary from JMr. Dalton was but one pound, I could not afford to
give so much, and began to examine others of a cheaper kind, but still let-
ting him see that I had a strong inclination for the one he had recom-
mended. This induced him to repeat his praises of the latter, and to press
me with greater energy to fix upon it. I at length (with a show of much
reluctance) suffered rnyself to be persuaded ; but I begged leave to observe,
that as I was influenced in evei-ything by the advice of my good master,
JMr. Dalton, I would not venture to make so extensive a purcliase without
his approbation : tliat, if he would tlierefore entrust me with the watch,
1 would consult Mr. Dalton, and give him (Mr. Gudgeon) a decisivo
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 493
answer tlie next morning : this he declared himself willing to do, on which
I took both the watch and my leave together, and returned home.
" The next morning I attended tlie office as usual, but of course took no
notice to Mr. Dalton of the affair in hand. During the space of time I
allotted myself for dinner, I again called on Mr. Gudgeon, and told him
that I would keep the watch, provided he should receive the payment by
instalments, as I could not afford to pay the whole price at once. I there-
ibre ])roposed to give him the ensuing Saturday one or two guineas, as I
should find most convenient, and to pay him half-a-guinea a week after-
wards, until the whole was liquidated. To this he readily agreed, and,
having fitted a key to the watch, he begged leave to show me some chains
and seals. Of the former he had none but gilt ones : I selected one of the
neatest, and a handsome gold seal, I then desired to have a bill of parcels
of the whole, observing that, whenever I paid a sum upon account, ]\Ir.
Gudgeon could make a memorandum of it at the bottom by way of receipt.
Having obtained this, I departed, promising to be punctual in paying my
first instalment on the day appointed. This took place on Tuesday, the
portmanteau being now on its way to London ; and the same evening I
quitted my lodgings privately, leaving nothing behind but a trunk, con-
taining brick-bats and stones, and walked by moonlight to a village four
miles distant, through which the stage-coach was to pass next morning at
seven o'clock. I procured some supper at a decent public-house, and re-
tired to rest, desiring to be called in time for the coach. At the expected
hour the stage made its appearance, in which I seated myself, and about
eight the same evening arrived at the Blue Boar, just two hours after the
waggon, which I perceived standing in the yard."
He received the portmanteau with little difficulty, and having disposed
of its contents in various ways, lived upon the produce for five or six
weeks, at the termination of which he thought it riglit to look out for a
new situation. He found one in the office of Mr. Preston, solicitor; ani
with the imprudence of dishonest persons, entered upon it, though the office
was next door to Dalton and Edwards, who had sent him down to Bury
St. Edmund's. He was soon recognised by a clerk of Messrs. Dalton and
Edwards, and, being called into the parlour by Mr. Preston one morning,
he was surprised at seeing his late master, who snatched the watch out of
his fob, and promised to restore it to the owner. Yaux was then taken
into custody ; but a friend of his grandfather having come forward, ani
indemnified Mr. Dalton for his loss, he was suffered to go at large, on a
promise that he would quit London, where he was likely to come to dis-
grace and infamy, and endeavour to obtain employment in the country.
The country had no charms for him, however, and he set about procur-
ing a situation in some retail shop in town, for the sole purpose of embez-
zling the receipts. In consequence of an advertisement in a newspaper,
he applied to a J\Ir. Gifford, the keeper of a masquerade warehouse, and
there he obtained employment upon a forged representation of his good
character. He did not fail at this place in collecting a good booty, and
having at length, by means of stealing goods from the shop, and embez-
zling mo icy which he had received on his master's account, secured about
sixty pounds' worth of property, he suddenly absconded and commenced a
round of disslp tion and gaiety. He had been at large scarcely a fortnight,
however, before he wa? taken into custody at the instance of his late master.
494 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
and ivpon his prosecution was committed to tlie quarter sessions, but there
his good fortune aided him, and in consequence of some informality in the
proceedings, he was acquitted.
Upon a second appearance at tlie same har he was not quite so success-
ful ; and it appears that having been detected in the act of picking pocketf
with a companion named Bromley, tney were both secured, and having
been convicted, they were on the 23rd September, 1800, sentenced to
seven years' transportation. Vaux was sent to Port Jackson in the
following ]May, and there he was assigned to a ]\Ir. Baker, a store- keeper
at Hav%'kcsbury, about twenty-six miles from Paramatta, who appointed
liim his clerk. In consequence of his good conduct during the ensuing
three years, he was promoted to a place in the secretary's office, in Sydney,
but there, conspiring with his fellows, in the commission of various frauds,
he was discovered and sentenced to be worked in a road-gang. During
two months he continued in Sydney in this degraded condition, but then
he was drafted to Castle Hill, a plantation twenty-four miles in the
interior, and there, after about ten months' service, he was appointed
clerk to the superintendant of the works. Having subsequently served
the office of clerk to the magistrates at Paramatta, he at length, on the
10th February, 1807, returned to England. There he found a woeful
change haxl taken place, his father and his grandmother being dead ; and
all served to remind him of the sinful course of life he had led, and of his
fiillen condition. All his resolutions against returning to a dishonest
mode of living were however unavailing, and at length he became a pro-
fessed and a professional thief. In order the better to carry on his new
trade, he associated himself with some fellows of dissolute habits, but at
length meeting with his old friend Bromley, he resolved to quit his new
companions and to pursue his avocation with one accomplice only.
In reference to his future proceedings he says, " Having withdrawn
myself from my late companions, I now became very circumspect in my
proceedings ; and as Bromley had neither the appearance nor the manners
of a gentleman, I only made use of him occasionally in the course of my
practice, keeping him in the back-ground to receive and carry any articles
which I purloined, and never suffi^ring him to converse with or approach
me, except in private. I generally spent the mornings, that is from about
one to five o'clock p. m. (which are the fashionable hours for shopping) in
visiting the shops of jewellers, watchmakers, pawnbrokers, &c. Having
conceived hopes that this species of robbery would turn to a good account,
and depending upon my own address and appearance, I determined to
make a circuit of the town, and not to omit a single shop in either of those
branches ; and this scheme I actually executed so fully, that I believe I
did not leave ten shops untried in all London, for I made a point of com-
mencing every day in a certain street, and going regularly through it on
both sides of the way. My practice was to enter a shop and request to
look at gold seals, chains, brooches, rings, or any other small articles of
value ; and, while examining them, and looking the shopkeeper in the
face, I contrived by sleight of hand to conceal two or tliree (sometimes
more) in the sleeve of my coat, which was purposely made wide. On some
occasions I purchased a trilling article to save appearances ; at other times
I took a card of the shop, promising to call again ; and, as I generally saw
the remaining goods returned to the window, or place from whence they
THE NEW NEWGAlli CALENDAR. 495
were taken, before I left tlie shop, there was hardly a probability of my
being suspected, or of the property being missed. In the course of my
career I was never once detected in the fact, though, on two or three occa-
sions so much suspicion arose, that I was obliged to exert all my effrontery
and to use very high language, in order, as the cant phrase is, to bounce
the tradesman out of it ; and my fashionable appearance, and affected anger
at his insinuations, had always the effect of convincing him that he was
mistaken, and inducing him to apologise for the affront put upon me. I
have even sometimes carried away the spoil notwithstanding what had
passed ; and I have often gone a second and third time to the same shop,
with as good success as at the first. To prevent accidents, however, I
made it a rule never to enter a second shop with any stolen property
about me ; for, as soon as I quitted the first, I privately conveyed my
booty to Bromley, who was attending my motions in the street, and herein
I found him eminently useful. By this course of depredation I acquired
on the average about ten pounds a week, though I sometimes neglected
shopping for several days together. This was not, indeed, the only pursuit
I followed, but was my principal morning's occupation; though, if a
favourable opportunity offered of getting a guinea by any other means, I
never let it slip. In the evenings I generally attended one of the theatres,
where I mixed with the best company in the boxes, and, at the same time
that I enjoyed the amusements of the place, I frequently conveyed pocket-
books, snuff-boxes, and other portable articles, from the pockets of their
proprietors into my own. Here I found the inconvenience of wanting a
suitable companion, who might have received the articles I made prize of,
in the same manner as Bromley did in the streets ; but though I knew
many of the light-fingered gentry, whose appearance fitted them for my
company, yet, their faces being well known to the police-officers, who
attended the theatres, they would not have been suffered to enter the
hciise : and herein I possessed an advantage which many of these gentry
envied me ; for being just arrived in England, and a new face upon the
town, I carried on my depredations under the very noses of the officers
without suspicion. Having, therefore, at first no associate, I was obliged
to quit the theatre, and conceal my first booty in some private spot,
before I could make (with prudence) a second attempt. Upon the whole,
I v^ras very successful in this pursuit also, at least as to the number of
articles I filched ; and had their value been reasonably proportionate to
what I expected, I need not long have followed so hazardous an employ-
ment. I have very frequently obtained nine or ten pocket-books, besides
other articles in an evening ; and, these being taken from gentlemen
evidently of fortune and fashion, I had reason to expect I should some
time meet with a handsome sum in bank-notes : but fortune did not
favour me therein, for, during near twelve months' almost nightly attend •
ance at one or other of the public places, I never found more than twenty
pounds in a book, and that only on one occasion. I several times got five,
ten, or eleven pounds, but commonly one, two, or three pounds; and most
generally four books out of five contained nothing but letters, memoran-
dums, and other papers useless to me. At the same time I knew frequent
instances of the common street pickpockets getting a booty of fifty, one
hundred, and sometimes three or four hundred pounds. However, I never
failed to pay the expenses of the niglit ; and if I gainvd nothing, I enjoyt d
496 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
at least a fund of amusement, wliich was to me the higliest gratilication.
It sometimes happened that the articles I got (particularly pocket-books)
were advertised by the losers, within a few days, as " Lost," and a reward
offered for their restoration : where this reward was worth notice, I fre-
quently restored ttie property by means of a third person whom I could
confide in, and whom I previously tutored for the purpose.
" In the mean time, the manner in which I spent my life, abstracted
from the disgraceful means by which I supported myself, was (as I have
formerly hinted) perfectly regular and inoffensive. Tliough I lived by
de})redation, yet I did not, like the abandoned class of common thieves.,
waste my money and leisure time in profligate debauchery, but applied
myself to the perusal of instructive and amusing books, my stock of which
I daily increased. I occupied genteel apartments in a creditable house, the
landlord of which understood me to hold a situation under goA'ernment ;
and every part of my conduct at home tended to confirm his opinion of my
respectability. I was scrupulously exact in paying my rent, as well as
the different tradesmen in the neighbourhood with whom I had occasion
to deal ; nor did I ever suffer any person of loose character to visit me, but
studiously concealed from those of my acquaintance my place of residence.
I was sometimes, indeed, so imprudent as to resort, for company's sake, to
some of those public-houses frequented by thieves and other dissolute
characters, the landlord of which is himself commonly an experienced thief,
or returned transport. When I had a mind to relax a little, or grew tired
of domestication, I disguised my appearance as much as I could, and re-
paired to a house of this description, sometimes taking my Dulcinea with
lae, whom I shall shortly introduce to the reader, and whose person and
dress I was not a little proud of exhibiting in public. This fondness for
liash-houses, as they are termed, is the rock on which most persons who
live by depredation unhappily split, and will be found in the sequel to
have brought me to my present deplorable condition ; for the police-oflBcers,
or traps, are in the daily habit of visiting these houses, where they drink
with the thieves, &c., in the most familiar manner ; and, I believe, often
obtain secret information by various means from some parties respecting
the names, characters, pursuits, &c., of others. By this imprudent con-
duct I also became personally known to many of the officers, which was
jiroductive of great danger to me in the exercise of my vocation ; whereas,
liad I avoided such houses, I might have remained unknown and unsus-
pected by them for a series of years."
The Dulcinea alluded to above was an unhappy girl of the town, whom
he took into keeping, and afterwards married. This poor creature behaved
to him in the most exemplary manner, and proved by her conduct that she
was worthy of a better fate.
Going one day to a public meeting at the Mermaid Tavern, Hackney,
he picked a gentleman's pocket of a silver snuft-box, which he handed to
the landlady. The box was missed by the owner, and on Vaux claiming
it, he was taken into custody ; but such is the glorious uncertainty of the
law, that he was acquitted on his trial, contrary to his own exi)ectation.
" The next adventure," says Yaux, " I shall have occasion to relate, more
fully confirms tlie justice of the remark, that the connexions formed by
persons during temporary confinement in a gaol commonly lead to further
acts of wickedness, and frequently entuil on the parties a more severe
Q^Z^^y l-^yUia^^t
I>-^d'6
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 497
piinisliment than that wliicli they have just escaped. This was exactly
my unhappy case, and I now come to tlie most fatal era of my eventful
life.
" In the same ward with myself were confined two brothers, very gen-
teel young men, who had been recently cast for death for privately stealing
some valuable rings, &c., from the shop of a jeweller in Leadenhall Street.
As a conformity of character, or similarity of pursuits, is the strongest
source of friendship, so these persons and myself had become very inti-
mately acquainted. In the course of our fi-equent conversations on the sub-
ject with which we were all three alike most conversant, the brothers
informed me that they had, like myself, made a successful tour of the
jewellers' shops in London : and on our comparing notes as to the parti-
cular persons we had robbed, or attempted to rob, they pointed out about
half-a-dozen shops, which, it appeared, I had omitted to visit, arising either
from their making no display of their goods, or from their being situated
in private streets, where I had no idea of finding any such trades. Though
at that time neither they nor myself entertained nmch hope of my acquittal,
it was agreed that, in the event of my being so fortunate as to recover my
freedom, I should pay my respects to the several tradesmen I had so over-
looked ; and I promised, in case I was successful, to make them a pecu-
niary acknowledgment in return for their information. At tlie moment
of my joyful departure from Newgate, they accordingly furnished me with
a list of the shops in question, and gave me full instructions and useful
hints for my guidance therein. They particularly pointed out a Mr. Bilger,
a goldsmith and jeweller of the first eminence in Piccadilly. This gentle-
man, they assured me, I should find, in the technical phrase, ^ good fiat.
They advised me to bespeak a diamond ring, or similar article, and to re-
quest a sight of some loose diamonds, for the purpose of selecting such
stones as I might wish to have set, informing me that he was generally
provided with a large quantity, which he would not fail to show me, and
that I might with ease purloin a good number of them. A day or two
after my release I made the prescribed experiments, and was fortunate
enough to succeed pretty well at nearly every shop ; but I reserved Mr.
Bilger for my final essay, as he was the principal object of consideration,
and from whom I expected to obtain the most valuable booty. On the
day se'nnight after my trial at the Old Bailey, I prepared in due form to
pay him a visit. About five o'clock in the evening I entered his shop,
dressed in the most elegant style, having a valuable gold watch and appen-
dages, a gold eye-glass, &c. I had posted my old friend and aid-de-
camp, Bromley, at the door, in order to be in readiness to act as
circumstances might require, and particularly to watch the motions
of Mr. Bilger and his assistants on my quitting the premises. On
my entrance IMrs. Bilger issued from a back parlour behind the shop,
and, politely inquiring my business, I told her I wished to see Mr. Bilger;
she immediately rang a bell, which brought down her husband from the
upper apartments. He saluted me with a low bow, and handed me a seat.
I was glad to find no other person in the shop, Mrs. Bilger having again
retired. I now assumed the air of a Bond Street lounger, and informed
Mr. Bilger that I had been recommended by a gentleman of my acquaint-
ance to deal with him, having occasion for a very elegant diamond ring,
and requested to see his assortment. Mr. Bilger expressed his concern
VOL. I. 3 s
498 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
that he happened not to have a single article of that description by him,
but, if I could without inconvenience call again, he would undertake in
one hour to procure me a selection from his working jeweller, to whom he
would immediately despatch a messenger. I affected to feel somewhat
di;<appointed, but looking at my watch, after a moment's reflection, I said,
' Well, ]\Ir. Bilger, I have an appointment at the Cannon Coffee-house,
which requires my attendance, and if you will without fail have the articles
ready, I may probably look in a little after six.' This he promised faith-
fully to do, declaring how much he felt obliged by my condescension ; and
I sauntered out of the shop, Mr. Bilger attending me in tiie most obsequious
manner to the outer door. After walking a short distance, Bromley tap-
ped me on the shoulder, and inquired what conduct I meant next to
pursue ; for he had viewed my proceedings through a glass-door in the
shop, and saw that I had not executed my grand design. I related to
Bromley the result of my conversation with Mr. Bilger, and added that I
meant to retire to the nearest public-house, where we could enjoy a pipe
and a glass of negus until the expiration of the hour, to which I had
limited myself. We accordingly regaled ourselves at a very snug house,
nearly opposite Bilger's, until about half-past six, when I again repaired
to the scene of action, leaving Bromley, as at first, posted at the door.
Mr. Bilker received me with increased respect, and, producing a small
card box, expressed his sorrow that his workmen had only been enabled to
send three rings for my inspection ; but that, if they were not to my taste,
he should feel honoured and obliged in taking my directions for having one
made, and flattered himself he should execute the order to my satisfaction.
I proceeded to examine the rings he produced, one of which was marked
sixteen guineas, another nine guineas, and the third six guineas. They
were all extremely beautiful ; but I affected to consider them as too paltry,
telling Mr. Bilger that I wanted one to present to a lady, and that I
wished to have a ring of greater value than the whole three put together,
as a few guineas would not be an object in the price. Mr. Bilger's son,
who was also his partner, now joined us, and was desired by his father to
sketch a draught in pencil of some fancy rings, agreeable to the directions
I should give him. The three rings I had viewed were now removed to
the end of the counter next the window, and I informed the young man
that I wished to have something of a cluster, a large brilliant in the cen-
tre, surrounded with smaller ones ; but repeated my desire that no expense
might be spared to render the article strictly elegant, and worthy a lady's
acceptance. The son having sketched a design of several rings on a card,
I examined them with attention, and appeared in doubt which to prefer,
but desired to see some loose diamonds, in order to form a better idea of
the size, &c. of each ring described in the drawing. Mr. Bilger, however,
declared he had not any by him. It is probable he spoke the truth : or
he might have lost such numbers by showing them, as to deter him from
exliibiting them in future. Without having made up my mind on the
subject, I now requested to see some of his most fashionable brooches or
shirt-pins. Mr. Bilger produced a show-glass, containing a variety of
articles in pearl, but he had nothing of the kind in diamonds. I took up
two or three of the brooches, and immediately sunk a very handsome one,
marked three guineas, in my coat sleeve. I next purloined a beautiful
clasp for a lady's waist, consisting of stones set in gold, which had the
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 499
brilliancy and appearance of real diamonds, but marked only four guineas.
I should probably have gone still deeper, but at this moment a lady,
coming in, desired to look at some ear-rings, and the younger Mr. Bilger
immediately quitted his father to attend upon her at the other end of the
shop. It struck me that now was my time for a decisive stroke. The
card containing the diamond rings, procured from the maker, lying very
near the show-glass I was viewing, and many small articles irregularly
placed round about them, tlie candles not throwing much light upon that
particular spot, and Mr. Bilger's attention being divided between myself
and the lady, to whom he frequently addressed himself, I suddenly took
the three rings from the card, and committed tliem to my sleeve to join the
brooch and lady's clasp ; but had them so situated that I could in a mo-
ment have released and replaced them on the counter, had an inquiry been
made for them. I then looked at my watch, and, observing that I was going
to the theatre, told Mr. Bilger that I would not trouble him any further,
as the articles before me were too tawdry and common to please me, but that
1 would put the card of draughts in my pocket-book ; and, if I did not meet
with a ring of the kind I wanted before Monday or Tuesday, I would
certainly call again and give him final directions. I was then drawing on
my gloves, being anxious to quit the shop while I was well ; but Mr.
Bilger, who seemed delighted with the prospect of my custom, begged .so
earnestly that I would allow him to show me his brilliant assortment of
gold watches that I could not refuse to gratify him, though I certainly
incurred a great risk by my compliance. I therefore answered, ' Really,
Mr. Bilger, I am loath to give you that unnecessary trouble, as I have,
you may perceive, a very good watch already, in point of performance,
though it cost me a mere trifle — only twenty guineas ; but it answers my
purpose as well as a more valuable one. However, as I may probably,
before long, want an elegant watch for a lady, I don't care if I just run
my eye over them.' Mr. Bilger replied that the greater part of his stock
were fancy watches, adapted for ladies ; and he defied all London united
to exhibit a finer collection. He then took from his window a show -glass,
containing about thirty most beautiful watches, some ornamented with
pearls or diamonds, others elegantly enamelled, or chased in the most deli-
cate style. They were of various prices, from thirty to one hundred
guineas ; and the old gentleman rubbing his hands with an air of rapture,
exclaimed, ' There they are, sir ; a most fashionable assortment of goods ;
allow me to recommend them, they're all a-going, sir — all a-going.' I
smiled inwardly at the latter part of this speech, and thought to myself,
' I wish they were going, with all my heart, along with the diamond
rings.' I answered they were certainly very handsome, but I would defer
a minute inspection of them till my next visit, when I should have more
time to spare. These watches were ranged in exact order, in five parallel
lines ; and between each watch was placed a gold seal or other trinket
appertaining to a lady's watch. It was no easy matter, therefore, to take
away a single article without its being instantly missed, unless the econo-
my of the whole had been previously deranged. I contrived, however, to
displace a few of the trinkets, on pretence of admiring them, and ventured
to secrete one very rich gold seal, marked six guineas. I then declared I
could stay no longer, as I had appointed to meet a party at the theatre ;
but that I Would certainly call again in a few days, and lay out some
500 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
money in return for the trouble I had given. Mr. Bilger expressed his
thanks in the most respectful terms, and waited upon me to the door,
where he took leave of me with a very low conge, a la mode de France, of
which country he was a native. I now put the best foot foremost, and
having gained a remote street, turned my head, and perceived Bromley at
my heels, who seized my hand, congratulating me on my success, and
complimenting me on the address I had shown in this exploit ; for he had
witnessed all that passed, and knew that I had succeeded in my object, by
the manner in which I quitted the shop. He informed me that Mr. Bilger
had returned to his counter, and, without attending to the arrangement of
the articles thereon, had joined his son, who was still waiting upon
the lady, and that he, Bromley, had finally left them both engaged with
her."
Such was his rapacity, that he renewed his visit to Mr. Bilgers shop ;
but the reception he met satisfied him that he was suspected. He, how-
ever, left an order for a splendid ring ; and, while the jev^-eller's sou, as
Vaux thought, was taking down his directions, he was only writing a
description of his person, and a handbill in a few days was widely circu-
lated amono- the pawnbrokers, peace-officers, &c. A day or two after
Vaux called at Turner's — a pawnbroker, in Brydges Street, Covent Garden
— to redeem some article he had pledged, when he saw such manoeuvres
in the shop as induced him to make a precipitate retreat, and go into
concealment.
At lenoth, " necessity," as he says himself, forced him out ; and, the first
niorht, he stole, from a shop in Ludgate Street, property to the amount of
four or five pounds, with which he was so much pleased that he returned
for his wife, and took her out to walk. Contrary to her earnest remon-
strance, they went to a flash-house, near Clare Market, where the landlord
betrayed him into the hands of justice, and he was hurried ofl:' to the
watch-house. Next day he underwent an examination at Bow Street, and
was remanded. During the interval between his first and second appear-
ance he had completely metamorphosed his person by cutting his hair and
whiskers, and putting on a mean suit of clothes. But all would not do ;
he was recognised through his disguise, and fully committed. His trial
came on at the Old Bailey, February the loth, 1809, and, the facts being
sworn to, he was found guilty — death. His sentence was afterwards
commuted to transportation for life, preparatory to which he was conveyed
on board the Retribution hulk at Woolwich.
" I had now," says Vaux, " a new scene of misery to contemplate ; and,
of all the shocking scenes I had ever beheld, this was the most distressing.
There were confined in this floating dungeon nearly six hundred men, most
of them double-ironed, and the reader may conceive the horrible eflPects
arisino- from the continual rattling of chains, the filth and vermin naturally
produced by such a crowd of miserable inhabitants, the oaths and execra-
tions constantly heard among them ; and, above all, from the shocking
necessity of associating and communicating more or less with so depraved
a set of beings. On arriving on board, we were all immediately stripped,
and washed in large tubs of water ; then, after putting on eacli a suit of
coarse slop clothing, we were ironed, and sent below, our own clothes being
taken from us, and detained till we could sell or otherwise dispose of them,
as no person is exempted from the obligation to wear the ship-dress. On
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 501
descending the hatchway, no conception can he formed of the scene wliich
presented itself, I shall not attempt to descrihe it ; hut nothing short ol
a descent to the infernal regions can be at all worthy of a comparison with
it. I soon met with many of my old Botany Bay acquaintances, who were
all eager to offer me their friendship and services, — that is, with a view to
rol) me of what little I had ; for in this place there is no other motive or
subject for ingenuity. All former friendships or connexions are dissolved,
and a man here will rob his best benefactor, or even messmate, of an article
worth one halfpenny. Every morning, at seven o'clock, all the convicts
capable of work, or, in fact, all who are capable of getting into the boats,
are taken ashore to the Warren, in wliich the Royal Arsenal and other
public buildings are situated, and are there employed at various kinds of
labour, some of them very fatiguing ; and, while so employed, each gang
of sixteen or twenty men is watched and directed by a fellow called a guard.
These guards are most commonly of tiie lowest class of human beings;
wretches devoid of all feeling ; ignorant in the extreme ; brutal by nature,
and rendered tyrannical and cruel by the consciousness of the power they
possess : no others, but such as I have described, would hold the situation,
their v/ages being not more than a day-labourer would earn in London.
Tiiey invariably carry a large and ponderous stick, with which, without
the smallest provocation, they will fell an unfortunate convict to the ground,
and frequently repeat their blows long after the poor sufferer is insensible.
At noon the working party return on board to dinner, and at one again go
on shore, where they labour till near sun-set. On returning on board in the
evening, all hands are mustered by a roll, and the wliole being turned down
below, the hatches are put over them, and secured for the night. As to
the food, the stipulated ration is very scanty, but of even part of that they
are defrauded. Their provisions, being sujiplied by contrnctors, and not
by government, are of the worst kind, such as would not be considered
eatable or wholesome elsewhere ; and both the weight and measure are
always deficient. The allowance of bread is said to be about twenty ounces
per day. Three days in the week they have about four ounces of cheese
for dinner, and the other four days a pound of beef. The break fjist is
invariably boiled barley, of the coarsest kind imaginable; and of this the
pigs of the hulk come in for a third part, because it is so nauseous that
nothing but downright hunger will enable a man to eat it. For supper,
they have, on banyan days, burgoo, of as good a quality as the barley,
and which is similarly disposed of; and on meat days, the water in which
the beef was boiled is thickened with barley, and forms a mess called
' smiggins,' of a more detestable nature than either of the two former!
The reader may conceive that I do not exaggerate vi^hen I state that among
the convicts the common price of these several eatables is, — for a day's
allowance of beef, one halfpenny ; — ditto, of cheese, one halfpenny ; — ditto,
of bread, three-halfpence ; but the cheese is most commonly so bad that
they throw it away. It is manufactured, I believe, of skimmed milk, for
this particular contract. The beef generally consists of old bulls or cows
who have died of age or famine ; the least trace of fat is considered a
phenomenon, and it is far inferior upon the whole to good horse-flesh. I once
saw the prisoners throw the whole day's supply overboard the moment it
was hoisted out of the boat, and for this offence they were severely flogged.
The friends of these uuhappy persons are not allowed to come on board.
502 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
but must remain alongside during their visit ; the prisoners are, it is tru(\
suffered to go into their boat, but a guard is placed within hearing of their
conversation ; and if a friend or parent has come one hundred miles, they
are not allowed above ten minutes' interview : so that, instead of consola-
tion, the visit only excites regret at the parties being so suddenly torn asunder.
All letters, too, written by prisoners, must be delivered unsealed to the
chief mate for his inspection, before they are sent ashore ; and such as he
thinks obnoxious are of course suppressed. In like manner, all letters
received from the post-office are opened and scrutinised. If I were to attempt
a full desciption of the miseries endured in these ships, I could fill a volume;
but I shall sum up all by stating that besides robbery from each other,
which is as common as cursing and swearing, I witnessed among the pri-
soners themselves, during the twelvemonth I remained with them, one deli-
berate murder, for which the perpetrator was executed at Maidstone, and
one suicide ; and that unnatural crimes are openly committed."
From the misery of the hulks he was removed on the 15th of June 1810,
for the second time, to Botany Bay. His wife, who had all along mani-
fested the utmost attention, was prevented by a succession of unfortunate
circumstances from seeing him previous to his departure ; nor does it appear
that he knew what become of her afterwards. On the 16th of the folio w-
ino- December, the transport arrived at Sydney Cove, where Vaux found
that the report of his exploits in London had preceded him. He endea-
voured to make interest with the governor, in the hope of being employed
as a clerk ; but this being his second visit, he was listened to with distrust,
and was sent up the country to a settler, who used him with great bar-
barity. To escape from this tyranny Vaux feigned himself sick, and thus
procured his removal to the hospital, from which he was discljarged in a
month, and appointed overseer to a town gang. He now resolved to lead
a correct life, and establish, if possible, a character for himself, seeing, as
he says, the necessity of good conduct, from the consequences that invari-
ably attend on an improper one. If we believe him, he adhered firmly
to his vows of rectitude ; but his notorious character operated against him,
and he fell a victim to prejudice and tlie depravity of a youth, who was a
veteran in iniquity. This young villain's name was Edwards. He was
servant to Mr. Bent the judge-advocate, from whom he purloined bills and
money, Vaux, suspecting his dishonesty, warned him of his danger ; but
the artful thief accounted for his being so flush in money by the presents
he was in the habit of receiving from his master's visitors.
One evening he came running into Vaux's lodgings, and requested of him
to keep some articles and parcels which he put into his hand. Vaux at
first refused, but was ultimately prevailed on to keep thtm for a few
minutes. Edwards had scarcely departed when lie thought he did wrong,
and acquainted his landlord witli the transaction. That person desired him
to go immediately and deliver the property up to the judge-advocate in a
public manner, as tlie only way left him to escape being implicated with
Edwards, and with this advice Vaux resolved to comply, but having
stopped first to smoke a pipe, before he had finished it, two officers entered
and apprehended him. His conduct was open, and his landlord deposed
in his favour ; but Edwards accused him, in revenge for giving up the
property, of being an accomplice, and he was finally banished to the Coal
River, where he "continued doing all kind of work for two years, after
TnE NF.W NEWGATE CALENDAR. 503
which he was permitted to return to Sydney, where he was once more
placed in the town-j^ang.
Again he renewed his vows of rectitude, but was unable to obtain any
station less degrading than the one in which he was placed. Tlie picture
before him was disheartening in the extreme — an exile for life — and com-
pelled to labour at the basest and lowest employment of mankind. A
British sailor took compassion on him and offered, in 1814, to conceal him
in his vessel, until she should sail, and he embraced the generous proposal ;
but after lying close and undiscovered for four days, some one on board
gave information, and the unfortunate wretch was dragged ashore, punished
with fifty lashes, and sentenced to transportation to the Coal River for one
year.
" In a few days," says he in his Memoirs, " I was accordingly embarked
with eleven other prisoners, and a second time landed at Newcastle, frcm
whence I had been absent nearly twelve months. On my arrival, it hap-
pened that the storekeeper of that settlement was in want of a clerk, and
ho applying to the commandant for me, I was appointed to that situation,
in which I still continue ; and having scrupulously adhered to my former
vows of rectitude, and used every exertion to render myself serviceable to
my employer, and to merit his good opinion as well as that of the com-
mandant, I have had the satisfaction to succeed in these objects : and I am
not without hope that, when I am permitted to quit my present service
and return to Sydney, my good conduct will be rewarded with a more
desirable situation. I have now been upwards of seven years a prisoner,
and, knowing the hopeless sentence under which I labour, I shall, I trust,
studiously avoid in future every act which may subject me to the censure
of my superiors, or entail upon me a repetition of those sufferings I have
already too severely experienced. I have thus dcFcribed (perhaps too
minutely for the reader's patience) the various vicissitudes of my past life.
Whether the future will be so far diversified as to afford matter worthy of
being committed to paper, either to amuse a vacant hour, or to serve as a
beacon which may warn others to avoid the rocks on which I have unhap-
pily split, is only known to the great Disposer of events."
The " Memoirs written by himself," from which we have extracted the
most interesting passages, here terminate.
"We have been the more willing to give the adventures of this notorious
villain, as he gives them, — although we confess that we are of opinion that
there is some exaggeration in what he states — because, however great may
be the depravity, of which he admits he was guilty, his punishments and
his miseries convey a moral, most forcibly depicting the danger of such a
line of conduct as he adopted. His memoirs were written by himself in
the year 1816, and were published in London in about three years after-
wards. Of his subsequent career we know little, but we learn by recent
accounts received from Sydney, that this hoary old sinner, at the age of fifty-
seven, has been convicted and sentenced to an imprisonment of two years'
duration, upon a charge of indecently assaulting a girl of tender age
Whatever may have been his course of life in later years, however frightful
may have been his career of sin in his younger days, w-e hold that this
new offence, of which he has been found guilty, is the crowning crime of
the whole ; and we regret that the human heart should have arrived at such
a degree of profligacy as to admit the guilt of youth, and to be unable to
withstand its temptation, in old age.
604 THE NKW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
JOHN WHITMORE, alias OLD DASH.
EXECUTED FOR A RAPE.
The summary punishment of a ravisher, by a conscientious Emperor of
the Turks, in days of old, if now, pei'cbance, inflicted, miglit more tend to
check tlie inordinate, unhiwful lust of men, than all the public executions
of such destroyers of the peace of females.
It is said that Mahmoud, Sultan of Damascus, one niglit while he was
going to bed, was addressed by a poor villager, who complained that a
young Turk of distinction had broken into his apartment, and forced him
to abandon his wife and family to his abuses. Tiie good sultan charged
that, if the Turk returned, he should immediately give him notice of it.
Three days after the poor man came again witii the same complaint.
Mahmoud took a few attendants with him, and, being arrived at the com-
plainant's, commanded the liglits to be extinguished, and rushing in, cut
the ravisher to pieces. He then ordered a light, to see whom he had killed,
and being satisfied, he fell on his knees and returned God tlianks ; after
which he ate heartily of tlie poor man's bread, and gave him a purse of
gold. Being asked the reason of this extraordinary behaviour, he replied,
" I concluded this ravisher was one who might fancy himself entitled to
my protection, and consequently might be no other than my son ; therefore,
lest the tenderness of nature should enervate the arm of justice, I resolved
to give it scope in the dark. But, when I saw that it was only an officer
of my guards, I joyfully returned God thanks. Then I asked the injured
man for food to satisfy my hunger, having had neither sleep nor sustenance
from the moment I heard the accusation till I had thus punished the author
of the wrong, and showed myself wortliy of my people's obedience."
Upon the same principle as that acted upon by tlie worthy Turkish
sultan, the hut of the meanest peasant is, by the law of England, as sacred
as the most gorgeous palace, and the chastity of his wife or daughter should
be held inviolate. The instances of disobedience to the laws in this respect
are but too frequent, and in no case have circumstances of greater atrocity
appeared than in that which we shall now detail.
John Whitinore was capitally indicted for a rape on the person of Mary,
the wife of Thomas Brown, on the 24th of October, 1810, on the Common
between Hayes and West Bedford. The prisoner was a labourer in the
powder-mills at Harlington Common ; and the prosecutrix, who lived at
Hayes, having one of her sons by a former husband living as servant with
Mr. Potts, a farmer, at West Bedford, had gone thither about twelve
o'clock with some clean linen for him. She stopped at a public-house in
the neighbourhood whilst he changed his linen, and there saw the prisoner,
w^ho, after asking her several questions, told her she had come much the
longest way about, on her way from Hayes, and offered to show licr a
much shorter cut over the heath on her return. The prosecutrix thanked
him, and accepted his offer. He accompanied her as if for that purpose,
decoyed her two miles out of her way to an unfrequented part of the heath,
amongst some bushes, under pretence of looking after a stray horse, and
ihere brutally violated her person.
The poor woman, who was forty-seven years of age, as soon as she could,
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 505
ran away from him, over tlie licatli, and again lost her way ; by accident
she met a gentleman, who put her in the right road, and she reached her
home about eioht o'clock at night. She was afraid to tell her husband
what had occurred till the following Sunday.
Tlie liusband next day set out with the constable in search of the pri-
soner, from the description given by his wife, and on Tuesday traced him
to a public-house at Twickenham, where he was known by the familiar
appellation of " Old Dasher ;" and there, after a stout resistance, he waa
taken into custody. The facts were, on his trial, which took place at the
Old Bailey, in October 1810, clearly established by the poor woman, and
the Common Serjeant having summed up the evidence, the prisoner was
convicted and received sentence of death, in pursuance of which he was
subsequently executed.
AGNES ADAMS.
IMPRISONED FOR UTTERIXG A FORGED NOTE.
For three or four years previous to this trial, numberless impositions
had been practised upon the unwary in the metropolis, by the passing of
])aper manufactured in imitation of the notes of the Bank of England,
which were traced to have originated in the Fleet Prison, a receptacle for
debtors only.
The notes, it seems, were printed on paper similar to those of the Bank
of England ; but upon the slightest inspection they were easily detected.
The great success of sharpers passing them chiefly arose from the hurry of
business, and from the novelty of the fraud. The shopkeeper would see
the word one, two, three, &c., an exact imitation of tlie genuine notes, but
did not examine farther, or he would have found, instead of pounds, the
counterfeit expressed pence ; and instead of " Governor and Company of
the Bank of England," the words "• Governor and Company of the Bank
of Fleet," substituted. The offence of publishing these notes, however,
was not deemed a forgery.
The circulation of Fleet paper was generally intrusted to profligate
women, who cohabited with the men who made them. This mode was
less suspicious, and in a single year had been carried on to a considerable
amount.
Of tliis description, and we could adduce many such, was Agnes Adams
who, in passing one of such notes, filled up with the words " two pence," as a
two-pound Bank of England note, to Mr. Spratz, a publican of St. John
Street, Clerkenwell, was by him detected, seized, prosecuted and convicted
at the Middlesex Sessions, 1811. The punishment could only be extended
to six months' hard labour in the House of Correction.
The fraternity of thieves about London have fabricated cant names for
the different articles which they steal. The Fleet notes were called " Flash
Screens."
8 7
506 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
RICHARD ARMITAGE AND CHARLES THOMAS.
EXECUTED FOR FORGER!'.
The crime for which these men justly suflfered was a forgery of the very
worst description, having for its effect a scandalous breach of public trust
— a robbery upon tlie very corporation which they were bound to protect
from the nefarious attempts of others.
It appears tliat they were connected with a person named Roberts, who
was a])preliended on a charge of swindling, on which he was remanded from
the police-office to Coldbath-Fields' Prison, in the year 1810. In a few
days he succeeded in making his escape from tlie jail, in company with a
man named Harper, by the most extraordinary means. From the evidence
adduced before the magistrates, before whom an inquiry into the escape
took place, it appeared that the prisoners were locked up in the usual way
at nio-lit, but that in the morning they were found to have escaped. On
the jail being examined, six gates which had been locked were found
standino- open, and it w^as discovered that the prisoners had completed their
design by scaling the outer wall, which they had ascended by means of the
scaffoldino- round a lodge which was in the course of being built, and from
which tliey had reached the ground by means of a rope which was found
still hantrino- on the outside. The most anxious inquiries were made after
Roberts,"but it was not until tlie month of April 1811 that he was dis*
covered at a tavern at Vauxhall, where he had passed himself off as a country
attorney, and was taken into custody. He then, to save his own life, im-
peached the partners in his villany, and Armitage and Thomas, who were
clerks in the Bank of England, were in consequence secured. Armitage
was first taken, and he was examined at Marlborough-street, and committed
for trial on charges of forging dividend warrants to the amount of £2400 ;
and Thomas was almost immediately afterwards apprehended, and com-
mitted on the same charges.
At the ensuing Sessions they were put on their trial, when the case
proved against them was, that they were bank clerks in the Imperial An-
nuity Office, and that they had forged a warrant to obtain the dividends
due upon a sum of money belonging to a person who had been dead three
years, and whose executors had not applied for the property. In pursuance
of the warrants forged in this case the amount paid was £360, and the
prisoner Thomas signed the book as an attesting witness. The case was
proved by Roberts and his wife, whose testimony, however, was corrobo-
rated by that of other witnesses, and the prisoners were found guilty and
were sentenced to death.
The unhappy men were executed on the 24th of June, 1811, at the Old
Bailey, pursuant to their sentence. Armitage, from severe illness, was
supported to the scaffold by a friend; he was also accompanied by a
clergyman, to whose admonitions he appeared to pay great attention. His
companion was a catholic, and was attended by a priest of that persuasion.
He exhibited great fortitude.
The secret of Roberts' escape was not discovered for a considerable time
afterwards, when he was induced to confess, that through the means of a
bribe offered to the person who swept the cells, he was enabled to procure
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 507
impressions in wax of the keys which would be required to open the doora
through which he and his fellow-prisoner would have to pass. Having
obtained these, he soon got keys made, and he was assisted in his flight by
this " friend at court." It was supposed, however, that he had some other
more powerful ally than a sweeper, and considerable changes in the
management of the jail were subsequently made.
The punishment for the crime of forgery, a few years only before this
time, was much less severe than that which was now inflicted, the increase
of the oftence having rendered an alteration in its severity necessary. It
would appear, however, that the efforts of legislators produced any-
thing but the desired effect, the frequency of the offence being increased
instead of diminished. The ancient punishment for this crime we find
thus minutely described in a Loudon periodical publication for the year
]7ai :—
"• June 2th. — This day, about noon, Japhet Crook, alias St. Peter Stran-
ger, was brought to the pillory at Charing Cross, according to his sentence
for forgery. He stood an hour thereon ; after which a chair was set on
the pillory ; and he being put therein, the hangman with a sort of pruning-
knife cut off both his ears, and immediately a surgeon clapped a styptic
thereon. Then the executioner, with a pair of scissors, cut his left nostril
twice before it was quite through, and afterwards cut through the right
nostril at once. He bore all this with great patience ; but when, in pur-
suance of his sentence, his right nostril was seared with a red-hot iron, he
was in such violent pain that his left nostril was let alone, and he went
from the pillory bleeding. He was conveyed from thence to the King's
Bench Prison, there to remain for life. He died in confinement about three
years after."
JANE COX.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
The practice of apothecaries selling poison in their shops to strangers,
who purchase it under the pretence of its having to be employed in killing
rats, is one which cannot be too severely reprobated, and even punished.
In Mantua of old, it appears from Shakspeare's Romeo and Juliet, that it
was an offence punishable with deatli, for the Apothecary says,
"Such mortal drugs I have, but Mantua's law
Is death to auy he that utters them ;"
and the peace and safety of society might be secured, and crime and
suicide rendered much less frequent, if some such provision were made in
England.
On the subject of selling poison for the purpose of committinfr murder,
we find, from " Hill's Journey through Sicily and Calabria," that in the
year 1791, at Palermo, a city not far distant from Mantua, an old woman
was executed for dealing out such mortal drugs.
" Many people in this town and neighbourhood," (Palermo,) says this
author, " died in a sudden and extraordinay manner ; they were generally
seized with vomiting, and expired in a few hours. A young woman went
508 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
to an officer of justice to make some complaints concerning her husband ;
he desired her to be reconciled, and refused to proceed against him, upon
which she turned away in a rage, muttering that she knew how to be
revenged. The magistrate paid attention to what she said, and gave
orders for her being arrested ; when, upon strict inquiry concerning the
meaning of her word, she confessed that it was her intention to poison her
husband, by purchasing a bottle of vinegar from an old woman, who pre-
pared it for tliat ])ur2J0se. In order to ascertain the truth of this story,
another woman was sent to the old jade, to demand some of the vinegar,
which was sold for about ten pence a bottle. ' AVhat do you want with
it ?' said the vender : ' Why,' replied the other, ' I have a very bad
husband, and I want to get rid of him.' Hereupon the old woman,
seventy-tv"o years of age, produced the fatal dose ; upon which she was
immediately seized, and conducted to prison, where she confessed that she
had sold forty-five or forty- six bottles. Many people were taken up; but
as, upon further inquiry, it was discovered that several of the nobility had
been purchasers, the affair was dropped, and the old woman alone suffered
death ."
To proceed, however, to the case of the unfortunate prisoner whose name
heads this article. On the 9th of j^ugust, 1811, she was indicted at the
Assizes for the county of Devon, for the wilful murder of John Trenaman,
an infant sixteen months old ; and Ai"thur Tucker was indicted as an
accessory before the fact.
The latter was a respectable farmer, living at Hatherleigh, in Devon-
shire ; and the infant was his natural child. It appeared that Jane Cox
had, on the 2oth of May, 1811, administered to the child a quantity of
arsenic, by putting it into the child's hands, which it put into its mouth
and ate, and in consequence died in aboiit two hours. The prisoner, in
her written confession, had implicated Tucker, as having persuaded her to
commit this act, and stated that he had taken the arsenic from under the
roof of a cottage, and given it to her, and promised her a one-pound note
if she would administer it to the child.
The prisoner, Jane Cox, after a trial of seven hours was convicted ; but
Tucker, who called a number of respectable witnesses who gave him a very
high character, was acquitted, the woman's story being unsupported by
evidence, and being disbelieved.
On Monday the l'2t\i of August, 1811, pursuant to her sentence, the
unfortunate woman was brought to the " new drop," the place of execution,
and underw^ent the sentence of the law.
She addressed the spectators at some length, and in a very audible
manner; she repeated her former confession, with some further particulars
respecting the means used by Tucker to prevail on her to commit the
horrid deed, for which she acknowledged she ought to die, but lamented
that the person who had instigated he^: to the commission of it was not also
to suffer with her.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 509
MICHAEL WHITING.
EXECOTED FOR POISONING HIS BROTHERS-IN-LAW.
Crime has different shades ; but a deeper dye cannot be given to it, than
when one in the assumed robe of sanctity attempts to dip his hands in
human blood, particularly when that blood is united to him by ties of
consanguinity.
Michael Whiting lived at Downham, where he occasionally preached,
being a Methodist parson ; but as the bounty of those who listened to his
pious exhortations was not very large, he endeavoured to add to hia
resources by keeping a shop in which he sold bread, meal, &c. and also
drugs, being at once a comforter of the soul and body.
Tliis hypocrite had two brothers-in-law, named George and Joseph
Langman, who resided on a small farm near Downham. They were both
under age, and had two sisters, one of whom was married to Whiting, and
the other, aged ten years, lived with her brothers. To possess himself of the
small estate of these youths. Whiting had recourse to a most diabolical plan.
The little sister was sent to his sliop for some bread, and, learning from
her that the liousekeeper of the brothers was about going from home for a
few days, he affected much kindness, and promised paying them a visit.
He did so, and with unusual liberality brought with him materials for
making a pudding or two, observing to the housekeeper, " Catherine, be
sure you make the boys a pudding before you go." After doling out a
few texts of Scripture, which he had ready on all occasions, and which ha
applied with about as much judgment as Sauclio Panza did his proverbs,
he departed, taking with him the little girl, tenderly remarking that her
sister would take better care of her than her brothers, durinof the house-
keeper s absence.
Catherine made the puddings ; but remarked, during the process, that
the dough would not properly adhere, and when she departed she left them
in a kneading-trough. The brothers, not suspecting that any mischief
was intended, boiled one of the puddings for dinner, and when properly
done, sat down to partake of it ; but before they had swallowed three
moutlifuls, they were seized with violent vomitings. Suspecting that the
pudding was poisoned, they threw a small piece of it to a sow in the yard ;
which she had scarcely swallowed, when the poor animal was taken sick,
and after lingering a short time died.
The elder brotlier, by the application of proper medicine, soon recovered ;
but the younger lingered for a long time ere he regained his health. The
pudding was now analysed by a professor of chemistry, who found it to
contain a large quantity of corrosive sublimate of mercury, and no other
poisonous ingredient, — a fact which destroyed the defence set up by
Whiting, that he had laid some mia; vomica for rats, some of which he
supposed had got among the meal.
For this offence Whiting was indicted at the Isle of Ely Assizes, on
Thursday the 5th of March, 1811; when, in addition to the above facts,
it was proved that, in the event of the Langmans' death, he would come in
for their property, in right of his wife, as the next heiress of her brothers.
The trial lasted till six o'clock in the evening, when the jury retired,
and, after a deliberation of ten minutes, foimd the prisoner Guilty, when
he was immediately sentenced to be hanged.
510 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
HARRIET MAGNIS.
TRIED FOR CHILD STEALING.
The offence for which this woman was tried was one which, at the timo of
its commission, attracted a very considerable degree of attention. The child
stolen was the offspring of a respectable couple living in Martin's-lane, in
the City, named Dellow ; and it appears that he was playing with his little
sister in the neighbourhood of his mother's house, when he was suddenly
missed, and all tidings of him were lost. A woman, it was proved, had
been seen in the neighbourhood immediately before the child was lost, and
suspicion rested upon her ; but although the most vigilant search was made,
her person could never be identified.
Suspicion first fell upon an innocent lady, the wife of a surgeon in the
navy, and, after two examinations of several witnesses, all of whom
mistook her person, she was committed for trial at the Old Bailey.
On her trial, however, she was acquitted, as indeed there appeared to be
no proof of her identity, and the case was still pervaded by the same
uncertainty as before.
At length the mystery began to develop itself. The first information
received in London was from a magistrate in Gosport, acquainting Mr.
and Mrs. Dellow of the discovery that their child was safe there, and
ready to be delivered to its parents. The father instantly set off, and soon
after returned home with his son, when he was required to appear before
the Lord Mayor of London, where he found William Barber, the keeper
of the Gosport prison, ready to give evidence against a woman of that town
of the name of Harriet INIagnis, in whose possession the child was found.
This man having seen a hand-bill describing the child, got information
that it was at Gosport, and went to the lodgings of Mrs. Magnis, who lived
in a very respectable way. He asked her if she had a child, and if it was
her own ; to which she replied, rather faintly, that it was ; but upon his
saying that he doubted it, and desiring to see the child, she took him very
readily to the room where it was in bed, and confessed to him that she had
found the boy in London.
She afterwards, however, confessed the whole affair, and her motive for
the robbery. She said that her husband, who was a gunner on board one
of his Majesty's ships, and had saved a considerable sum of money for a man
in his station of life, was extremely partial to children, and had often ex-
pressed his most anxious wish to have a little darling, as he used to term it.
His wife, not less anxious to gratify him in this respect, wrote to him while
at sea, that she was in the family way. The gunner, highly delighted that
he had obtained his desired object, sent home the earnings of many a cruise,
amounting to three hundred pounds, with a particular charge that the
infant should be well rigged, and want for nothing ; if a boy, so much the
better.
The next letter from his hopeful wife announced the happy tidings that
his first-born was a son ; and that she would name him Richard, after his
father. The husband expressed his joy at the news, and counted the
tedious hours until he should be permitted to come home to his wife and
child.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. T)!!
At home he at length arrived, but at an unfortunate time, when the dear
Richard was out at nurse, at a considerable distance ; change of air being
necessary to the easy cutting of his teeth. The husband's time being short,
he left England with a heavy heart, without being able to see his offspring ;
but he was assured that on his next trip to Gosport he should have the
felicity he liad so often pined for, of clasping his darling to his bosom. It
was not until November 1810 that he was at liberty to revisit home, when
he had a^ain the mortification to find that his son, whom he expected to see
a fine boy of three years old, had not yet cut his teeth, or that he was from
home on some other pretence. The husband, however, was not to be paci-
fied thus : he would go and see his son, or his sou should come to him.
Mrs. Magnis, finding him determined, thought the latter the much better
way, and accordingly set oft' to fetch the boy. The metropolis occurred to
her as the market best calculated to aft'ord her a choice of children ; and,
passing down Martin's-lane, she was struck with the rosy little citizen.
Tommy Dellow, and at once determined to make him her prize. He was
playing with his sister at the greengrocer's shop-door, into which Mrs.
Magnis went, with the double view of purchasing some apples, and carry-
ing oft" the boy. She made much of the sister, caressed the boy, and gave
him an apple. The children being pleased with her attention, she asked
the little girl to show her to a pastry-cook's shop to buy some cakes, when
she got clear off" with the boy, and left the girl behind.
Poor Magnis felt a parental affection for the boy ; and when the impo-
sition was discovered before the magistrate, he was grieved to the heart at
being obliged to part with him under all the circumstances of the
transaction.
The woman, upon evidence being produced of these facts, was committed
to Winchester jail for trial ; but at the assizes she escaped, on account of
her being indicted in the wrong county, the felony having been committed
in London.
BENJAMIN WALSH, ESQ., M. P.
TRIED FOR FELONY.
The name of Mr. Walsh was long known in the City as that of a daring
mercantile speculator ; and it appears that having thrown himself into con-
siderable difficulties, he succeeded in wiping them all off by a commission
of bankruptcy, and almost immediately afterwards obtained a seat in Par-
liament.
Among the dignified members of the House of Commons, Sir Thomas
Plomer seemed to entertain an opinion of ^Ir. Walsh which was in no de-
gree altered by his recent transactions, and he intrusted him with £22,000
to purchase government securities for him. Mr. Walsh, however, laid out
the greater part of the money in the stocks of the United States of America
on his own account, and endeavoured to flee to that land of refuo-e for the
guilty, but was overtaken by the arm of justice at the very port from
which he intended to sail from his native country. He was unfortunately
for his own design too pertinacious of his privilege of frankino- letters, ano.
he continued even while flying from London, when one would have supposed
512 rnE new newgate calendar.
he would have endeavoured to remaiu unknown, to despatch letters to his
friends indorsed "Free, B. Walsh." These communications being stopped
by an order of the government, the course of his flight was discovered, and
he was followed to Falmouth by a Bow-street runner, and the solicitor of
Sir Thomas Plomer, by whom he was secured and brought to London.
He was indicted at the ensuing Old Bailey Sessions for the offence of
stealing the money, when Mr. Garrow appeared for the prosecution, and
Mr. Scarlett for the defence.
Upon the witnesses being examined, Sir Thomas Plomer stated that he
had given the money to the prisoner for the express purpose of purchasing
exchequer bills. He had given it to him in a check, for which he got
cash. The prisoner did afterwards lodge £6000 of the bills at Sir Thomas's
bankers.
Mr. Scarlett, in addressing the Court for the defence, hoped he should
not be understood to entertain any other sentiments of this oifence than
a conviction of the moral turpitude of the prisoner ; and he was satisfied
the prisoner himself entertained no other sentiment, and felt all the contri-
tion belonoinor to such a crime ; but it now became his duty to make
such objections as occurred to him : — First, there could be no charge of
this sort for stealing the check, for it was in evidence that the prosecutor
had criven it to the prisoner for a specific purpose ; and it was not altogether
misapplied, for he had purchased some exchequer bills, and the law did
not allow the act of felony to be in part separated. The second objection
was under the statute of tlie second year of the reign of George II. by
which the security intended by the legislature was given to such property as
was still available to the party prosecutor. In this case the party prose-
cutor had parted with all control over the check by delivering it to the
prisoner. Thirdly, the felonious intent of the party taking was not in
itself suificient to constitute a felony when the party to whom the property
belonged had relinquished his control over it ; and in support of 'these
objections, he referred to several cases in point.
After some observations by 3Ir. Garrow, it was agreed that the jury
should find a verdict subject to the future opinion of the twelve judges
upon the chief baron's report.
The chief baron acquiesced in this arrangement, and then adverted to
that part of the evidence which went to show the previous intent of the
prisoner to commit the felony ; observing, at the same time, that it was
impossible, upon such evidence, not to find the prisoner guilty, who, in
consequence of the objections made by his counsel, would have the benefit
of the judgment of the twelve judges hereafter.
The jury immediately returned a verdict of — Guilty.
During the whole of the trial the prisoner was much affected.
Tlie result of the argument before the judges was, that the facts proved
did not, in estimation of law, amount to felony ; and as "Walsh had been
convicted of that offence, he received a free pardon.
The Commons expelled him from his seat in their house ; and he was
again made a bankrupt, whereupon Sir Thomas found himself entitled
rnly to a pitiful dividend under the second commission.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 51^
THE MURDER OF THE MARRS AND WILLIAMSONS.
The close of the year 1811 was productive of two scenes of blood,
which struck horror into all hearts ; we allude to the murders of the families
of the Marrs and Williamsons, in Ratcliffe Higliway, which were accom-
plished under circumstances of tlic most frightful atrocity, and of the most
extraordinary mystery.
It appears that Mr. IMarr was a linen-draper in a respectable way of
business living in Ratcliffe Highway, and that his household establishment
consisted of himself, his wife, and infant child, a shop- boy and a servant
woman. It was his custom to close his shop at about eleven o'clock, when
he and his assistant proceeded to dispose of the commodities wuich had
been exposed for sale during the day by placing them on the shelves. On
a dark evening at the beginning of the month of December 1811, he was
engaged in the customary manner, his shop being closed, when the servant
woman was despatched to procure some oysters for supper from a neigh-
bouring shop. On her quitting her master's house she left the door a-jar,
in order that she might procure a ready access on her return, and she went
directly to the house of a person who resided only a few doors off to pur-
chase the fish. She found, however, that they had sold the whole of their
stock, and slie was therefore compelled to go further; and having purchased
the quantity required, and had tliem opened, she returned immediately
to the residence of Mr. Marr. On her reaching the door, she found that it
was closed, and she rang the bell. No answer was, however, returned
and she repeated her application to the wire. Still no one came, and i
watchman coming up at the moment inquired what she was doing there?
She informed him of the errand on which she had been sent, and that she
could not obtain an entrance, upon which he pulled the bell with great
Ariolence, but his efforts were attended with no better effect than those of
the servant girl. Some alarm was now begun to be felt, and the next-door
neighbour coming out, to learn the cause of the interference of the consta-
bles, three or four persons soon collected, amongst whom a consultation was
held as to the best mode of proceeding. Various courses were suggested,
a continued application to the knocker and bell being made in the mean
time ; and at length, no answer being given, it was determined that the wall
which divided IMr. INIarr's back premises from those of the adjoining house
should be scaled, in order that the cause of the silence might be ascertained.
The watchman, aided by the strangers who had collected near him, soon
made an entrance into ]\Ir. ]\f arr's premises, but on going into the house a
sight met his eyes, before which the stoutest heart would have quailed.
The murdered remains of JVIr. INIarr and his shop-boy lay before him in
the shop ; the body of Mrs. IMarr was in the passage, and that of the
infant in its cradle, all Avarm and all steeped in gore.
The watchman, having recovered from the effect of the stupor which
this horrid sight had produced in his mind, immediately ran to the door,
and having opened it gave an alarm to those outside of the frightful murders
which had been committed. An apprehension was entertained that the
assassins might still be employed in plundering the house, and instant search
was made, but without success ; and it was ascertained that the murderers,
intimidated probably by the girl's ringing the bell, had escaped from the
VOL. I. 3d
514 THE NEW NEAVGATE CALENDAR.
back window, across some mud which lay in the back yard, and throngh
a way whose intricacies coiild have been threaded by none but persons who
had previously reconnoitred the situation. In the mean time the report of
the murders had spread like wild-fire, and thousands of persons collected
round the house, notwithstanding the late hour of the night ; but, although
many volunteers were found, and an instant search was made through the
vrhole of the surrounding district, nothing was discovered which could in
the remotest degree afford a clue to the discovery of the persons implicated
in the diabolical transaction. A minute examination of the house took
place when daylight afforded an opportunity for it to be done with good
effect, and then a ripping chisel or hook, such as are used by carpenters
and joiners, was found lying near the body of Mr. Marr, and some marks
of blood were discovered on the window, through which the murderers had
escaped; but nothing was found which could induce a supposition that any
goods or money had been carried off.
In the mean time the murders had caused a most extraordinary sensation
throughout the metropolis, and various reports were in circulation as to the
manner in which they had been committed ; and the most active inquiries
were made with a view lo the collection of evidence to be produced before
the coroner's jury. Upon an inquest being held, in addition to the facts
above detailed, it was proved by the servant girl that, on her quitting her
employer's house, her master and the shop-boy were in the shop, and her
mistress and the child were in the kitchen below ; but no facts were proved
which could at all lead to the discovery of the persons implicated in the
foul deed. From the testimony of the girl it was supposed, that very soon
after she had quitted home, the ruffians had entered the shop, probably
under pretence of making a purchase, and, having closed the door, had
attacked jNIr. Marr, whom they had knocked down and there killed by
cutting his throat. They had next seized the boy, who apparently had
made some resistance, and despatched him in a similar manner ; and Mrs.
IMarr now coming up stairs to inquire into the cause of the tumult and
confusion which was doubtless created, she was in turn murdered in the same
manner with her husband and the shop-boy. One would have imagined
that the infant in its cradle would have escaped in this scene of carnage ;
but it was imagined that it had cried at being so long left alone, and the
blood-thirsty monsters, afraid lest a discovery should take place in conse-
quence of its calls, descended and terminated its existence by cutting its
throat, so as almost to sever its head from the body. There being no
further evidence to produce, the inquest was at length, after several
adjournments, concluded, and a verdict of " Wilful murder against some
person or persons unknown," was returned.
The funeral of these victims of villany took place on Sunday the 15th of
December, 1811, at the church of St. George in the East, when the bodies
of the family of ]\Ir. Marr were deposited in one grave, in the presence of
their sorrowing friends, and of an immense concourse of people, by whom
the utmost respect and decorum were exhibited. The body of the shop-
boy was interred by his friends.
Would that our tale of blood could terminate here ! It is, however, our
painful task to inform our readers of other murders, taking place under
precisely similar circumstances with those of the Marr family, and within
ten minutes' walk of the place in which they were perpetrated.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 615
The horror and dismay produced by the atrocious event which we have
just detailed had not yet subsided ; the exertions of the police to discover
the parties concerned in it had not yet been abated ; the earth which had
been thrown over the graves of tlie unhappy victims was not yet settled,
ere the neighbourhood of Ratcliflfe Highway was again the scene of a crime
as horrible as that which still struck terror into the minds of all persons.
On Thursday night, the 1 9th of December, the neighbourhood of New
Gravel-lane was thrown into a state of the most violent confusion by loud
cries of " Murder ! " proceeding from the King's Arms public-house,
situated at No. 81 in that lane The recollection of the late event wa?
still fresh in the minds of all, and crowds of persons instantly ran to the
spot to learn the cause of alarm, rendered doubly appalling by recent cir-
cumstances. Nor was the sight which met their eyes at all calculated to
allay the apprehensions which had been raised. A man almost in a state
of nudity was seen descending from the second-floor window of the
house mentioned by means of two sheets tied together, and exclaiming,
with expressions of the most violent agitation and terror, " They are
murdering the people in the house." On his reaching the extremity of
the line which he was using, he was still eight feet from the ground ; but
he was assisted in his descent by the watchman, who received him into
his arms, and he then repeated the alarm which he had already given.
The greatest horror was felt at what was supposed to be a repetition of
the frightful scene which had been so recently enacted, and a short con-
sultation was held as to the best mode of affording relief to the inmates of
the house. It was determined that the most speedy means must be taken ;
and, in accordance with a resolution which was arrived at, an entry was
forced through the cellar fltip. A man named Ludgate, a butcher living
in Ashwell's Buildings, close by, and a Mr. Hawse and a constable, were
the first persons who entered by this means ; and almost at the same instant
a gentleman named Fox obtained admission through some wooden bars at
the side of the house, with a cutlass in his hand. The first object that was
seen in the cellar was the body of Mr. Williamson, which lay at the foot
of the stairs ; and on its being examined, it was found that his throat was
dreadfully cut, and that besides his leg was broken, and he had sustained
a severe fracture of the skull, while the weapon with which he appeared
to have been attacked, an iron crow-bar or maul, was lying at his side.
In the parlour, the body of Mrs. Williamson was found with the skull
fractured and the throat cut, the blood still issuing from the wound, while
at her side lay that of the servant woman, whope head was horribly
bruised, and whose throat was cut in a similar manner.
Surgical aid was instantly procured; but upon the bodies being examined,
it was found that the vital spark had fled.
A new and irresistible feeling of horror now overspread the city of
London and its vicinity, and the utmost apprehension was felt at this new
attack upon a family within its own circle. On the first alarm being
given, a picquet of the Tower Hamlets' Militia, and a number of the
Volunteer Corps, aided by the inhabitants and the constables, made a
most minute search in all quarters for the offenders, but no person could
be discovered to whom suspicion could attach. Upon the premises being
examined, in which the diabolical murders had been committed, it was
found that the under part of the house was used as a skittle-ground, next
51G THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
to the entrance of which was the cellar-door ; and from the bloody marlvS
which appeared on both doors, it was obvious that the murderers had
attempted to escape by both those means.
It was discovered, also, that the villains had eventually effected their
exit from the house by means of a back window which looked into an
open space belonging to the London Dock Company, from which there
was easy access to many different streets branching off in various direc-
tions. The wounds on the heads of the unfortunate deceased, it was
obvious, had been inflicted by the iron crow-bar which had been found ;
and from their position, as well as from the inclination in the cuts in the
throats of the deceased persons, it appeared that the murderer was left-
banded. During the time occupied in the perpetration of the horrid deed,
a public-house, almost adjoining that of ]\Ir. Williamson, was filled with
people drinking, while only a few doors on the other side, there was a ren-
dezvous for seamen, the windows of both of which looked into the open
ground into which the murderers had escaped.
In the course of the following day the most active measures were taken
to secure the murderers. Police officers were despatched in all directions ;
a reward of 100^ was offered by the parish for their apprehension, and the
magistrates sat at Shadwell Pollce-ofl&ce during the whole day, ready to
receive and act upon any information which might be brought to them.
On the day succeeding, a coroner's inquest was held upon the bodies of the
deceased persons, when Mr. Anderson, constable, and John Turner, the
man who had escaped from the window, were examined.
Mr, Anderson deposed that he was a constable, and knew Mr. and Mrs.
Williamson ; they were highly respected in the neighbourhood, and for
the space of fifteen years kept the King's Arms public-house, which was
the resort of foreigners of every description. At eleven o'clock every
night they invariably closed their house. On Thursday night, the 19th of
December 1811, Mr. Williamson pursued his usual course. Ten minutes
before eleven witness called for a pot of beer. During the time Mrs.
Williamson was drawing the beer, Mr. Williamson, who was sitting by
the fire, said to him, " You are an officer — there has been a fellow listen-
ing at my door with a brown coat on ; if you should see him, take him
into custody, or tell me." He answered " He certainly would, for his and
his own safety," and then retired. Witness lived next door but one to the
deceased. Between twenty and thirty minutes after he left the King's
Arms, he intended to go for another pot of beer; as soon as he got out of
his house he heard a noise, when he saw the lodger lowering himself
down into the street by the sheets. He ran into the house for his staff,
and proceeded to the spot. The watchman caught the lodger in his arms,
when witness and others broke the cellar-flap open, and, having descended,
began to look roimd the cellar; on coming to the staircase, tliey saw Mr.
'v\^illiamson lying on his back, with his legs upon the stairs, his head
downwards : by his side was an iron instrument, similar to a stonemason's
crow, about three feet long, in diameter three quarters of an inch : it was
much stained with blood. Mr. AYilliamson had received a wound on the
head, his throat was dreadfully cut, his right leg was broken by a blow,
and his hand severely cut. From these marks of violence witness sup^
posed jNIr. Williamson made great resistance, as he was a very powerful
man. They then proceeded up into the sitting-room, where they saw Mrs
THE NEAV NEWGATE CALENDAR. 517
Williamson lying on her left side ; her skull was fiactured, and her throat
cut and bleeding most profusely. Near to her was the servant woman,
lying on her back, with her head under tlie grate ; lier skull was more
dreadfully fractured than that of her mistress, her throat most inhumanly
cut, and none of the bodies were cold. Witness then stated that the pre-
mises were afterwards examined, and it was discovered that the murderers
had made their escape from a back w-indow looking into a piece of waste
ground belonging to the London Dock Company. The sill of the window
was stained with blood, and the sash remained thrown up. The distance
whicli the villains had to jump did not exceed eight feet, and the ground
beneath was soft clay ; so they could sustain no injury even had they
fallen. From the waste ground in question there was no difficulty what-
ever in escaping, as it communicated with several by-streets.
John Turner, the man who escaped from the window, and who was a
lodger in tlie house, deposed as follows :—
" I went to bed about five minutes before eleven o'clock ; I had not
been in bed more than five or ten minutes before I heard the cry of ' We
shall all be murdered ! ' which I suppose was the cry of the woman-
servant. I went down stairs, and saw one of tlie villains cutting Mrs.
Williamson's throat, and rifling her pockets. I immediately ran up stairs,
took up the sheets from my bed, fastened them together, and lashed them
to the bed-posts ; I called to the watchman to give the alarm ; I was
hanging out of the front window by the sheets ; and the watchman
received me in his arms, naked as I was. A great mob had then assembled
opposite the door ; and as soon as I got upon my legs the door was forced
open : I entered, and found the bodies lying as described. There was
nobody lodged in the house but myself, except a grand-daughter of Mrs.
Ayilliamson. I have lived in the house about eight months, and during
that time I have found the family to be the most peaceful people that
could keep a public-house. The man whom I saw rifling Mrs. William-
son's pocket, as far as I could see by the light in the room, was about six
feet in height, dressed in a genteel style, with a long dark loose coat on. I
said nothing to him ; but, terrified, I ran up stairs, and made my escape
as already mentioned. When I was down stairs, I heard two or three very
great sighs; and when I was first alarmed, I heard distinctly the words,
' We shall all be murdered.' " Turner further deposed that, at the time he
went to Vied, Mrs. Williamson was on the stairs, taking up a silver punch-
ladle and watch, which were to be raffled for on the following Monday,
into her bedroom for security.
Other witnesses were examined, but their testimony differed in no mate-
rial respects from that of the persons whose evidence we have detailed ; and
tlie jury, as in the case of Mr. Marr, returned a verdict of " Wilful
Murder against some person or persons unknown."
After the termination of this necessary inquiry before the coroner, how-
ever, the most minute investigation of every circumstance connected witb
this lamentable affair was carried on by the magistrates of Shadwell.
Many persons were taken into custody, but discharged for want of evidence :
])at an Irishman, named Cornelius Driscoll, was detained on suspicion of
being implicated in the liorrid deed, on account of a pair of breeches covered
with blood being found in his possession.
Of all the persons seized, however, suspicion fell strongest upon a man
5!8 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR,
named John Williams, who cheated justice by committing suicide before
his guilt or his innocence could be fully established.
This man was apprehended on suspicion of being concerned in the mur-
ders ; and on his examination, John Frederick Ritchcn, a Dane, who was
also in custody, was sworn as a witness. lie stated that he had lodged in
the Pear Tree public -house, kept by Mr. Vermillee, with the prisoner, for
about twelve weeks and three or four days, but knew little of him except
in the light of a fellow-lodger. He knew that he was acquainted with
two men, a carpenter and a joiner, and about three or four weeks before he
had seen them all three drinking together at the bar of the public-house.
On the night of the murder of the Marr family Williams was out, and a
few minutes before he returned there was a knock at the door, which Mrs.
Vermillee opened. The witness had gone down to open the door, but
seeing ]\Irs. Vermillee, he went up to his own room ; and, when there,
heard her in conversation with a man, whose voice resembled that of one
of the two men before mentioned. A few minutes afterwards Williams
himself came in. This was almost half-past one o'clock. Three or four
days before Williams was taken up, he observed that the large sandy-
coloured whiskers, which had before formed a striking feature in his
appearance, had been cut off. About eleven o'clock on the day after the
nmrder of the Marr family, the witness went from curiosity to examine
the premises, which he entered, and saw the dead bodies. From thence
he returned to the Pear Tree, where he found Williams in the back yard,
washing out his stockings, but he did not tell him where he had been.
He was then questioned respecting his knowledge of the maul, which is a
round bar of iron about an inch in diameter, between two and three feet in
length, flattened at the end into the shape of a chisel, but not with a
cutting edge, being apparently a tool for caulking. He said it resembled
one he had seen about the Pear Tree public-house, but he could not
identify it. A pair of blue woollen trousers, and also a pair of canvas
trousers, were then produced, which had been found betw-een the mattress
and the bed-clothes of the hammock in which the witness slept. The legs
of the blue trousers had evidently been washed, for the purpose of cleaning
tliem from mud, of which the appearances were still visible in the creases,
which had not been efiectually cleansed. These trousers were damp at the
time of the examination ; the canvas trousers were also damp, but they
presented no particular appearance. The witness stated that both these
pairs of trousers had formerly belonged to a person since gone to sea, and
he had since worn them himself.
Mrs. Orr, residing near the Pear Tree, stated, that on the Saturday
before IMarr's murder, about half-past one o'clock in the morning, she
was getting up linen, when she heard a noise about the house, as if a
man was attempting to break into the house. She was frightened and
asked, "Who was thei'e?" A voice answered, which she knew to be
AVilliams's, " I am a robber ! " She answered, "• Whether you are a robber
or not, I will let you in, and am glad to see you." Williams entered,
seating himself till the watchman was calling the hour of past two o'clock.
He then got up from his chaii', and asked the landlady if she would have
a glass. She assented, but as he would not go for it, she went to tlie
Pear Tree public-house, but could gain no admittance. She returned,
when Williams inquii-ed how many rooms there were in her house, and
TUE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 519
Jhe situation of her back premises. She replied, there were three rooms,
and that her back yard communicated with Mrs. Vermillce's house. The
watcliman came into Mrs. Orr's house, although Williams resisted it for
some time, and he told her that he had picked up a chisel by the side of
her window. Williams ran out unobserved at this information ; soon
afterwards he returned. The watchman was going, when Williams stopped
him, and desired him to go to the Pear Tree and get some liquor. The
house was then open. While the watchman was gone for the liquor,
Williams took up the chisel, and said, " D — n my eyes, where did you get
this chisel ?" Mrs. Orr did not part with it, and retained the instrument
till the Monday following. Hearing that Williams was examined, she
went to Mrs. Vermillee's, and sliowed her the chisel. — Mrs. Vermillee
looked at it, and compared it with the tools in one Patterson's chest, when
it was found to bear the same marks, and declared that it was taken out of
her house. Mrs. Orr instantly delivered the chisel to tiie magistrates of
Shadwell-street office, as being a further trace to the villany. Mrs. Orr
said she knew Williams for eleven weeks ; he frequently nursed her child,
and used to joke with her daughter, and once asked her whether she
should be frightened if he came in the dead of the night to her bedside ?
The daughter replied, that if it was he who came, she should not be
frightened. They both thought him an agreeable young man, of a most
insinuating address.
In consequence of the information of this witness, a minute examination
of the ripping chisel found at Mr. ]\Iarr's took place, and it was found also
to be marked like that discovered by the watchman at Mrs. Orr's. The
husband of Mrs. Vermillee was in custody on suspicion in Newgate, and
he was consulted, and expressed his belief that it was taken from the same
tool chest as that chisel. The plot now seemed to thicken against the pri-
soner, and little doubt was entertained of his connexion with the carpenter
and joiner, and of their having all been engaged in the perpetration of
these most horrid murders, when all further elforts on the part of the police
were checked, by his adding another crime to those which it was fully
believed he had already committed, by destroying liimself.
He had been remanded for further examination to Cold Bath Field?*
Prison, and the police of the district had redoubled their exertions to detecW
and bring to justice his accomplices. ]\Ir. Vermillee had been ordered to
be set at liberty, in order that he might give evidence upon the day of the
next inquiry before the magistrates, when, on the very morning on which
the prisoner was to be carried before the magistrates, upon the gaolei
going to call him from his cell, in order that he might prepare himself to
be carried to the Police Office, he was found, heavily ironed as he was,
suspended by a handkerchief from a beam in the apartment in which he
was confined. He was instantly cut down, but upon his body being
examined, it was found that he was quite dead and cold,- and that he had
evidently been hanging during several hours.
The excitement produced by this termination of the investigation would
be difficult to describe, but all persons now expressed their full belief that
tlie deceased prisoner was the author of the crimes which had attracted
such universal attention. An inquest was held upon his body, and a ver-
dict of felo cle se was returned by tlie jury, but now became a question,
how the public indignation could best be satisfied ? The rule in such
520 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
cases was that the deceased should be buried in the nearest cross roads, but
a conference was held with the Home Secretary by Mr. Capper, the magis-
trate, with the view of ascertaining how far tliis regulation might be de-
parted from, at which it was determined that a public exhibition of the
body should be made through the neighbourhood which had been the scene
of the monster's crimes. In conformity with this decision, on the 31st of
December, the body of the deceased was privately removed from the prison
at eleven o'clock at night, and conveyed to St. George's watchhouse, near
the London docks, and on the following (Tuesday) morning, at half-past
ten o'clock, a procession was formed in the following order : —
Several hundred constables, -witli their staves, clearing the way.
The newly-formed patrole, with drawa cutlasses.
Another body of constables.
Parish oflBcers of St. George's, St. Paul's, and Shadwell, on horseback.
Peace-officers, on horseback.
Constables.
The high constable of the county of Middlesex, on horseback.
The body of Williams,
Extended at full length on an inclined platform, erected on the cart, about four feet high at
the head, and gradually sloping towards the horse, giving a full view of the body, which wag
dressed in blue trousers and a white and blue stri])cd waistcoat, but without a coat, as when
found in the cell. On the left side of the head the fatal maul, and on the right the ripping-
chisel, with which the murders viere perpetrated, were exposed to view. The countenance of
Williams was ghastly in the extreme, and the whole had an appearance too horrible for
description,
A strong body of constables brought up the rear.
The procession advanced slowly up Ratcliffe Highway, accompanied by
an immense concourse of persons, eager to get a sight of the murderer's
remains. When the cart came opposite to the late Mr. Marr's house, a
halt Avas made for near a quarter of an hour. The procession then moved
down Old Gravel-lane, along Wapping, up New Crane-lane, and into New
Gravel-lane. AVhen the platform arrived at Mr. Williamson's late house,
a second halt took place. It then proceeded up tlie hill, and again entered
Ratclifte Highway, down which it moved into Cannon-street, and advanced
to St. George's turnpike, where the New Road is intersected by Cannon-
street. There a grave, about six feet deep, had been prepared, immediately
over which the main water-pipe runs. Between twelve and one o'clock
^he body was taken from the platform, and lowered into the grave, imnie-
Uately after wliich a stake was driven through it ; and, the pit being
jovered, tliis ceremony concluded.
During the last half-hour the crowd had increased immensely — they
poured in from all parts, but their demeanour was perfectly quiet. All
the shops in the neiglibourhood were shut, and the windows and tops of
the houses were crowded with spectators. On every side, mingled with
execrations of the mtirderer, were heard fervent prayers for the speedy de-
tection of his accomplices.
A conclusive evidence of the guilt of this wretched suicide was after-
wards found, in the discovery of a knife which he always carried with him,
concealed in a hole in the room which he occupied, encrusted with
blood.
Fearful as were the horrid crimes committed by this blood-thirsty
assassin, they were not without their good effect in the metropolis. The
sensation produced by the murders awakened the apprehension of all persons
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 521
for their own safety ; and local meetings were held in the various parishes
ot the metropolis, at which resolutions were passed, in pursuance of which
a system of police was established far more complete than that which
before existed, although still infinitely inferior in point of regularity and
competence to that which within the last eleven years has been adopltii
and carried out to the admiration of the civilised world.
WILLIAM HEBBERFIELD.
EXECUTED FOR FORGERY.
The prosecution of this prisoner arose out of a desire on the part of the
Bank of England to put a stop to the most dangerous and hurtful system
of forgery wliich existed about this time in the city of London.
It appears that the prisoner had long been known as a dealer in forged
notes ; but he had contrived to elude the vigilance of the officers employed,
although he rendered himself liable to punishment for the part which
he took in a conspiracy for aiding the escape of General Austin, a
Frencli officer, a prisoner of war in this country, on his parole, for
which he was sentenced by the Court of King's Bench to two years'
imprisonment in Newgate. Even while in that jail, however, he conti-
nued to carry on the trade in forged notes ; and this being communicated
to the officers of the bank, they determined upon a plan to secure his con-
viction. A prisoner named Barry, who was in tlie House of Correction
undergoing an imprisonment for passing counterfeit dollars, was selected as
the agent, and on the •23d of September he was conducted in a hackney-
coach to Newgate, accompanied by Mr. Weston, the principal clerk to
Mr. Freshfield, the bank stjlicitor, and by Beckett, one of the turnkeys, by
whom he was provided with 8/. in good H.-notes. On their arrival at
the prison, Barry was shown into the prisoner's room, vrhere he found a
number of other persons. He directly went to the prisoner, and without
saying anything, gave him six of the notes which he had received, and
which were all mai'ked. The prisoner returned three, saying that he
should not have enough of the other notes until the next day ; but in lieu
of the others, which he kept, he handed over forged notes of the nominal
value of (j^. Barry immediately carried these notes to Mr. Weston, who
remained outside ; and Beckett, accompanied by Brown and another
officer, went into the prisoner's chamber, and asked him to produce what
property he had about him. The prisoner dii'ectly took from one pocket a
handful of gold, from another a pocket-book filled with bank-notes, from
another a quantity of loose bank-notes, and he also produced a stocking
stuffiLid with the like currency. Beckett, on examining these notes, and
not perceiving amongst them any of tlie marked ones he sought for, told
the prisoner he had some more, and desired him to produce them ; upon
which the prisoner took some other notes from his side-pocket, and laid
them on the bed where he was sitting. Beckett took those up, and they
})roved to be tlie marked notes. He said these were what he wanted,
and returned the prisoner the rest ; upon which the prisoner, probably
anticipatino- his purpose, snatched the notes, and thrust them into the fire,
Beckett's assistant, liowever, rescued them from the flames, and they were
■^oL I. 3 X
522 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
proved to be the same which Barry had paid him just before ; and th«
notes Barry received in lieu were also proved to be forgeries.
The prisoner upon being indicted for this offence was found guilty aud
sentenced to death, in pursuance of which he was executed on the 2ud
November 1811.
So great was the increase of these frauds upon the public, that between
the year 1797 and 1811, no fewer than 471 persons were prosecuted to
conviction for forging, or uttering, or possessing forged notes. The total
amount of notes tlius put off it is of course impossible to calculate with
any certainty, but discoveries were made which showed the system to
exist to an extent almost incredible.
JOHN CLAYTON AND WILLIAM JENKINS.
EXECUTED FOR BURGLARY.
The activity, daring, and ingenuity of the London " cracksmen " is well
exemplified in the following case : —
It appears that Reid, a constable belonging to Perry's party of patrole,
received information from a person technically called a " nose," — that is, an
informer or spy, — that a set was made at the house of a Mrs. INIartin, a lady
residing at No. 4, Bury Street, St. James's, by a party of thieves, who had
derived sufficient knowledge of tlie customs of the house from the servant
girl, Mary Wakelin, to induce them to suppose that the robbery would be a
profitable speculation. Their mode of making themselves acquainted with
this circumstance was this : — The girl, like most others of her condition and
years, was vain of her personal charms, and the prisoner Clayton was a
young man of pleasing manners and insinuating address. The "crack"
was fixed upon, and Clayton was set to Avork upon the girl's vanity, and
so obtain the necessary information to enable his assistants and associates
to complete it cleverly. He addressed her one evening at the public-house
to which she was in the habit of going to fetch her mistress's beer, and
having passed a few encomiums upon her beauty, was soon admitted into
conversation. The impression which he made was not imfavourable, and
he was too good a judge to allow an opportunity to pass, by which he
might benefit himself. Day after day he was found at the same place,
and each day he was more attentive than the last ; and the girl at length
looked upon him in the light of a suitor. He informed her that he was a
trunk-maker living in Oxford Street, and in return obtained information
that her mistress was in the habit of visiting the theatres or some other
place of public amusement nearly every night. He did not fail to improve
upon his acquaintance at every fresh interview, and at length a Monday
evening was fixed upon, when the lover was to be admitted to spend an
hour with the oirl in the kitchen during her mistress's absence. It was at
this period that the ofiicers gamed information of the intended robbery; and
they in consequence obtained permission to occupy a room opposite to ]\Irs.
IVlartin's house, from which they could witness all that passed. Half-past
eight o'clock was the time appointed by Mary to see her swain, and tho
constables took care to be as punctual as he. A few minutes before tho
time, accordingly, they saw four men and two women arrive at the spot,
from whom Clayton separated himself and went and knocked at the door.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 523
ITe was, however, doomed to be disappointed. The mistress was iinweh'
and could not go out, and therefore, with a kiss or two, and an aflectionate
hug, the sweethearts were obliged to part, not, however, without fixino- the
next Tuesday to carry out their design, Tuesday night came, and the
officers were again at their post ; but the loving pair separated after taking
a little gin together. Wednesday evening passed in the same manner,
I\rrs. Martin being still too unwell to go out ; and notwitlistandino- the
most praiseworthy attention on the part of the supposed trunk-maker to
his inamorata, every evening until the following Tuesday passed in the
same way, the professions of inviolable attachment made by the tender-
hearted youth growing each night more strong, and his anxiety to enter the
house increasing at every meeting. On the Tuesday night, however, the
girl told Clayton that her mistress was so much recovered, that she
expected she would be well enougli to go the following night to the play ,
and on Wednesday night, about eight o'clock, Mrs. Martin, accompanied
by a male and female friend, went in a coach to the theatre. In a few
minutes after, the servant girl came out, and returned shortly with Clayton,
arm in arm together. They talked together several minutes at the door,
and then went in. In about a quarter of an hour after, Clayton came out,
and returned in about five minutes, accompanied by another man. Clayton
knocked at the door, and the girl opened it. She appeared to refuse to let
the other man in ; but Clayton forced open the door, and the other man
rushed in. The officers, who had been upon the close watch every ni^rlit,
then went over to the house, and heard all three talking very loud in the
kitchen. From the noise, and what they saw through a keyhole, they
ascertained that the two men were dragging the girl up stairs against her
will, and she was exclaiming, " Lord have mercy upon me ! what shall I
do ?" One of the men told her if she made such a noise he would blow
her brains out, and presented a pistol to her head, and kept it there. They
forced her up stairs, and the officers heard doors being broken open, &c.,
and, in a few minutes after, the second man came down stairs, and returned
with the kitchen poker. They then heard other doors break open ; but not
hearing the noise of the girl continued, the officers were afraid she was
being murdered, and were proceeding to force the street-door with an iron
crow, when the girl exclaimed it was her mistress, gave a sudden spring,
released herself from her assailants, ran down stairs, with the robbers after
her : and they got into the passage just as the officers had entered. Clayton
and Jenkins appeared as if nothing had happened, and wanted to get out ;
but Perry and Reid seized them. The villains made a most desperate
resistance, wliich they were enabled to do, being very tall, stout, powerful
men ; but they were eventually secured. On searching Clayton, a large
clasp knife and a bad dollar were found. On Jenkins were found a pistol,
two bad dollars, &c. On examining the house, the officers discovered that
a large quantity of property had been packed up, ready to be carried off.
Several rooms and closets were broken open, and the thieves were in the
act of breaking open a chest when they were disturbed.
The trial of tliese desperadoes came on at the Old Bailey, on the loth
of January, when Mary Wakelin, before named, deposed that she first
became acquainted with the prisoner Clayton about eight or ten days
before the 1st of January ; he then came to her mistress's house, when she
answered the door, and told her his name was Wilson, and that he had
a letter for Mrs. Martin, which was the name her mistress went by. A
5i'4 THE MEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
night or two afterwards he threw things down the area. Her mistress
sent her out with a message, and she then saw Clayton, who asked her to
take something to drink, which she at first refused ; but upon his insistinor
they went and had something to drink. She saw him a night or two
afterwards in tlie streets, as she went out on an errand, and frequently after
t<;at; but she never saw the prisoner Jenkins till the night of the 1st of
January.
The jury found both the prisoners Guilty, and they were sentenced to
leath.
The fearful sentence was carried into effect on the scaffold before the
Debtor's door, Newgate, on the 19th February 1812, at the usual hour,
and with the accustomed solemnity. Clayton was twenty-eight years of
age, and Jenkins thirty-five.
After the culprits had been divested of their irons, Clayton observed to
Jenkins it was an awful moment, and he exhorted him to cheer his spirits,
and die witli manly fortitude — adding that the sentence was just, and
trusting their example would v/arn others against keeping bad company.
DANIEL DAWSON.
EXECUTED FOR POISONING RACE-HORSES.
This fellow had long exercised the business of a tout to betting-men of
an inferior class on the Turf, obtaining for them such information from the
grooms and other persons employed about the racing-stables as he conceived
they might deem useful ; when having got together a little money, he
thouo-ht that he mioht be able to employ his information to his own advan-
tage, and he therefore turned betting-man himself. He was a man utterly
devoid of education, and therefore unfit to mix among the gentlemen of liis
class ; and being confined to the society of grooms and other persons of "low
degree," he imbibed none of those principles of " honour " for which the
speculators on racing and other gambling events are generally proverbial.
In order then to make sure of winning his bets, he determined to render
the horses unfit for running, by drugging them. In this practice he con-
tinued until April 1811, when he conveyed a large quantity of the solution
of arsenic into a watering trough, from which two horses belonging to
Lord Foley and Sir F. Standish had to drink.
The drug being too powerful to produce that effect only Avhich was
requisite, the horses died, and suspicion falling upon Dawson and a com-
panion of his named Cecil Bishop, they were taken into custody. Bishop
immediately made a full confession, and accused Dawson of having poisoned
another horse in the year 1809, belonging to a Mr. Adams at Royston,
and he made such disclosures as established a chain of evidence which left
no doubt of the truth of his story. He was therefore admitted as a
witness, and his comp-anion was committed to take his trial at the ensuing
Lent Assizes at Cambridge. It there turned out, that instead of being a
principal as he was charged, he was an accessary only, and he was
acquitted ; but he was detained in custody upon another charge of poisoning
race-horses in the year 1809. He was arraigned upon a second indictment
therefore at the Assizes held in August 18T2, and upon this he was found
guilty and sentenced to death. For some time after his conviction, he
entertained hopes that his life would be spared, and Lord Foley, in conse-
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 525
qiience of some communications which he received from him, was indnced
to second his application for mercy. This, however, was attended with no
good effect, and the wretched culprit was left for execution. Determined
not to throw away all chances, he resolved to attempt to escape from cus-
tody, and he wrote to his wife in the following terms, in order to procure
some assistance to enable him to complete his design.
" Dear Wife, — I learn by yours, I am in danger ; but I have another
way of escape without fear of being discovered. — You go to a tool-shop,
and get a small back saw, as the watch-makers use, the smaller the better,
to convey to me : the best way you can get it in will be bet>veen some
turf, with some black thread ; if you can find a better way, do it ; but be
careful, for all the danger is to get that to me, for I have but one bar to
cut, and I am in town by four o'clock in the morning. They will not miss
me till eight, when they come to unlock us. I shall be by that out of their
reach. Dear girl, bring me the turf six pieces at a time. When I have got
the saw, I must have some friend come round to see the Castle, but take
no notice of me, but to see the situation; I am in full north; and come
again in one hour after we lock up ; bring rope enough to reach over the
wall, and he stand on the other side, and hold it till I am up the wall.
Fasten a large spike to the end of the rope, and throw it over the wall, and
tie knots about nine inches asunder to hold by, and about twenty-five feet
long. There is no danger in this, for there is nobody inside after we come
to bed. A rainy night will be best ; but I will let you know the night by
another line. Mr. Prince says he has got a very respectable man, who will
come forward and swear to everything of the concern, all but seeing it put
in. If anybody can be found to write to Lord F. 0. (alluding to a threat),
it will have great effect. Mr. J. B. South-street Grosvenor Square, Mr. B.
King's J\Iews, Elbs (meaning Tlieobald's) Road, Gray's-Inn Lane, have a
good look out, if there is any danger. I shall soon be along with you, with
a little of your assistance ; by applying to the people above mentioned you
will get good intelligence. When you write, direct your letters to Mrs.
Howell's sister. When you come, ask me for my pocket-book, and I can
give you all at once. I shall call them things breeches and coat, so you
will know."
This letter was detected in the hand of his wife, by the jailer, whose
suspicions were excited by the circumstance of their parting on this occa-
sion with more than usual emotion ; and baffied in all his schemes, he for a
time indulged the criminal design of taking away his own life, but fi'om
which he was persuaded by the pious exhortations of the chaplain. Seeing
no hopes of either mercy or escape, lie resigned himself to his fate, but
persisted in denying having intended to destroy the horses, as he only
wanted to incapacitate them from winning.
Dawson spent his last days in all the fervency of prayer, and expressed
his pious hope in the forgiveness of the Almighty. The last parting from
his wife was truly affecting, and he described it as worse than death. The
night before his execution he slept soundly, and ate, next morning, a hearty
breakfast. Previous to his receiving the sacrament he tied a yard of black
ribbon round his neck, which, at his dying request, was conveyed to his
afflicted wife. At twelve o'clock he was led to the platform, on the top
of Cambridge Castle, and was turned off amidst an immense concourse of
spectators, it being market-day. He died without a struggle.
OZO THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
THE MARQUIS OF SLIGO.
FINED AND IMPRISONED FOR ENTICING SEAMEN TO DEiEaT
HIS majesty's navy.
In 1810, the noble marquis, tlien a thoughtless young man, quitted
college, and proceeded on his travels, visiting those places in person, of
whose ancient fame and greatness he had read so much. Being partial to
marine excursions, and willing to indulge himself in one in the 3Iediter-
ranean, he hired, at 3Ialta, a brig called the Pylades ; and having been
introduced to Captain Sprainger, of the Warrior, then on that station, he
received from that naval officer much information and kindness.
The noble marquis being frequently rowed to and from the "Warrior by
some of her athletic crew, seems to have thought the addition of a few of
these fine fellows a desirable acquisition to his handful of Italians. Accord-
inofly it appears that he succeeded in inducing two of them to join his
crew, upon which suspicion fell upon his lordship ; for it was sujiposed no
ordinary inducement had been held out to them, as they were men of tried
fidelity, long standing, and had then three years' arrears of wages due to
them. Captain Sprainger paid the marquis a visit on board the Pylades ;
and, on hinting his suspicions, his lordship appeared greatly hurt ; upon
which the captain, from their intimacy, contented himself with cautioning
his noble friend upon the danger of having deserters on board, as the navy
was very low, being nearly two thousand under its complement. He then
left the marquis, and from his own ship sent him a description of the men
missing, requesting that if they ofifered themselves to his lordship, they
might be sent to some of his majesty's ships at ^lalta.
Next day the Warrior sailed ; and the noble marquis resolved that his
brig should be a letter of marque, for the purpose of upholding the honour
of the British flag. For the business of navigation, a comparatively few
men would have done ; but in this new capacity he required at least forty.
To procure these was no very difficult task on a station where men were
hourly in the habit of quitting their ships ; and his lordship's servant, in
the course of an evening or two, added fourteen brave fellows to their
complement.
On the 13th of May his lordship sailed to Palermo, and from thence to
Messina, where, on pledging his word of honour that he had no deserters on
board, he received a six months' protection for forty men, having inserted
false names for the men-of-war's men. The Pylades then proceeded on
her course, and on the 30th of May she was chased by the Active, an
officer of that ship having heard that deserters were on board. Ere the
boat came alongside, his lordship ordered the men-of-war's men below,
and, though a search took place, they escaped detection.
The marquis next sailed to Patmos, where ten of the men were allowed
to go on shore, and that evening the vessel sailed without them. The
abandoned men appear to have suffered great hardship ; and at Scio, when
accompanied by the British consul to the Pylades, his lordship refused to
receive any of them except four, who were useful in the management of the
vessel. Some of the men returned to their duty, and were tried by a court
martial. From Constantinople the marquis wrote to Captain Sprainger,
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 527
stating that he found he had some of liis men on board, and that he was
determined to send them on shore the first opportunity ; tliat if the
business was brought into a court, he would do tlie best to defend him-
self; and that, at the worst, he had an ample fortune, and could pay the
fines.
Tired with travelling, his lordship returned home, and soon after his
arrival in England he Avas indicted for enticing British seamen from their
duty. The ti-ial came on at the Old Bailey, December 16th 1812, when,
after a protracted inquiry, his lordship was found Guilty, and sentenced
to pay a fine of five thousand pounds, and to be imprisoned four months in
Newgate.
Perhaps it is not the least curious particular attending this case, that his
lordship's mother, the Dowager Marchioness of Sligo, soon after her son's
trial, was married to Sir William Scott, the judge who passed sentence on
the youthful marquis.
JOHN BELLINGHAM.
KXECTJTED FOR THE MURDER OF THE RIGHT HONOURABLE SPENCER PERCEVAL.
On the 11th of May, in the year 1812, an event occurred which excited
universal dismay and regret in the minds of the whole of the British
public — the death of the Right Honourable Spencer Perceval, then Chan-
cellor of the Exchequer, by the hand of an assassin.
John Bellingham, the author of this crime, was brought up in a count-
ing-house in London, and afterwards went to Archangel, where he lived
during a period of three years in the service of a Russian merchant.
Having returned to England, he was married to a Miss Nevill, the daugh-
ter of a respectable merchant and ship-broker, who at that time resided at
Newry, but who subsequently removed to Dublin. Bellingham, being a
person of active habits and of considerable intelligence, was subsequently
employed by some merchants in the Russian trade, by whom he was
induced again to visit Archangel, and he in consequence proceeded thither,
accompanied hf his wife, in the year 1804. His principal dealings were
with the firm of Dorbecker and Co.; but before twelve months had expired,
a misunderstanding arose between them, and each party made pecuniary
claims upon the other. The subject was referred by the Governor-General
to the decision of four merchants, two of whom Bellingham was allowed
to select from his countrymen resident on the spot, and by the award of
these arbitrators Bellingham was found to be indebted to the house of
Dorbecker and Co. in the sum of two thousand roubles ; but this sum he
refused to pay, and appealed to the senate against the decision.
In the mean time, a criminal suit had been instituted against him by the
owners of a Russian ship which had been lost in the White Sea. They
accused him of having written an anonymous letter to the underwriters in
London, stating that the insurances of that ship were fraudulent transac-
tions ; in consequence of which the payment for her loss was resisted. No
satisfactory proof being adduced, Bellingham was acquitted : but before
the termination of the suit, he attempted to quit Archangel, and being
stopped by the police, whom he resisted, he was taken to prison, but was
£28 THE XEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
soon after liberated, through the influence of the British consul, Sir
Stephen Shairp, to whom he had made application, requesting to be pro-
tected from what he considered the injustice of tlie Russian authorities.
Soon after this the senate confirmed the award of the arbitrators, and
Bellingliam was delivered over to the College of Commerce, a tribunal
established, and acknowledged by treaty, for taking cognizance of commer-
cial matters relating to British subjects. He was to remain in custody
till he discharged the debt of the two thousand roubles ; but his confine-
ment was by no means severe; for he had permission to walk wherever he
pleased, attended by an ofiicer belonging to the college. Lord Granville
Leveson Gower being at this time ambassador at the Russian Court,
Bellingliam made frequent application, and, at various times, received
from his secretary small sums of money to support him durino- his con-
finement. One night, in particular, he rushed into his lordship's house at
St. Petersburgh, and requested permission to remain all nio-ht, to avoid
being secured by the police, whom he had escaped. This was granted,
although Lord Gower had no authority to protect him from a legal arrest ;
but it appears he was afterwards retaken, and being confined by the
authorities of the country, the British ambassador could have no pretence
to solicit his release. His lordship, however, in a conversation with the
minister for foreign aflairs, expressed a personal wish that the Russian
Government, seeing no prospect of recovering the money from Bellinorham,
would liberate him on condition of his immediately retarnino- to England ;
but we are not told what effect was produced, as Lord Gower soon after
quitted the Russian Court.
The foregoing is taken from the statement published by Lord Gran-
ville Leveson Gower, in his own justification, against the charge made
against him by Bellingham on his trial ; and we hope, for the lionour of
our country, that it is correct ; and we must confess that a review of all
the circumstances tends to confirm its accuracy. Our ambassador, it is
admitted, had the case investigated ; and as his refusal to interfere was
subsequently confirmed by that of the English Government, it is evident
that Bellingham could have had no just cause of complaint, or, at least,
none of a nature to call for diplomatic negotiation or pecuniary recom-
pense. In justice to the unfortunate man, we shall, when we come to his
trial, give his own statement, and leave the reader to draw his own con-
clusion.
Bellingham having, by some means or other, procured his liberation, in
the year 1809 returned to England, and at Liverpool commenced the
business of an insurance broker. It appears, however, that from a
constant recital of the circumstances which had occurred in Russia, his
complaints were aggravated in his own mind into grievances, and he at
lenoth beijan to talk of demandincr redress from the Government for what
he termed and appeared to consider the culpable misconduct of their
ofiicer. Lord Gower, and his secretary, in omitting to defend his rights as
a British subject ; and he eventually wrote to the Marquis Wellesley,
setting forth the nature of his case, and the grounds upon which he
expected that some compensation would be made. By the noble marquis
he was referred to the Privy Council, and by that body to the Treasury ;
but his efforts being unattended with success in either quarter, he deter-
mined to proceed to the Chancellor of the Exchequer (Mr. Perceval),
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 529
with a view to obtain his sanction and support for his demand. Mr.
Perceval, however, having made himself master of the case submitted to
him, declined to interfere, and Mr. Bellingham was then advised by his
friends that the only resource left to him was a petition to parliament.
As an inhabitant of Liverpool, he applied to General Gascoyne, then
member for tliat city, to present a petition to the house of commons ; but
that honourable gentleman having ascertained upon inquiry that tlie case
was unsupported by tlie Cliancellor of the Exchequer, he refused to have
anything to do with it. Driven now to pursue a course quite unusual in
such cases, he petitioned the Prince Regent, but from him he was referred
again to the Treasury, and he again received an intimation that all appli-
cations from him must be futile. Three years had now been spent in
these constant and fruitless attacks upon the government, but the unfortu-
nate and misguided gentleman appeared even yet to cherish hopes that his
case would be attended to. On one occasion, it is reported that he carried
his wife, who had in vain striven to wean him from what she considered
to be his malady, and another lady, to the secretary of state's office for the
purpose of showing them the success with which his exertions were
attended ; and although he then, as he had before, received a flat denial of
his claims, yet he continued to assure them that he did not in the least
doubt that ere long all his hopes would be made good, and he would
receive compensation for his sufferings.
He now adopted a new and certainly an unprecedented mode of attack.
He wrote to the police magistrates of Bow-street in the following terms : —
" To their Worships, the Police Magistrates of the Public Office in
Bow-street.
" Sirs, — I much regret its being my lot to have to apply to your
worships under most peculiar and novel circumstances. — For the particu-
lars of the case, I refer to the enclosed letter of Mr. Secretary Ryder, the
notification from Mr. Perceval, and my petition to parliament, together
with the printed papers herewith. The affair requires no further remark,
than that I consider his majesty's government to have completely endea-
voured to clos^ the door of justice, in declining to have, or even to permit,
my grievances to be brought before parliament, for redress, which privilege
is the birthright of every individual. The purport of the present is,
therefore, once more to solicit his majesty's ministers, through your
medium, to let what is right and proper be done in my instance, which
is all I require. Should this reasonable request be finally denied, I shall
then feel justified in executing justice myself — in which case I shall be
ready to argue the merits of so reluctant a measure with his majesty's
attorney-general, wherever and whenever I may be called upon so to do
In the hopes of averting so abhorrent, but compulsive an alternative, I
have the honour to be. Sirs, your very humble and obedient servant,
" John Bellingham.
" No. 9, New Millman-street, March 23, 1812."
This letter was at once conveyed to the members of the government, but
it was treated by ihem as a mere threat, and no furtlier notice was taken
of it, than on Mr. Bellingham's again presenting himself, by a fresh refusal
being given to him by Mr. Read. Once more he applied to the Treasury,
and again he was told that he had nothing to expect ; and according to his
VOL. I. 3 y
530 THK NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
statement. Mr. Hill, whom he now saw, told him that he might " resort to
whatever measures he tliouglit fit." This he declared he considered " a
carte hlanche to take justice into his own hands," and he accordingly deter-
mined to take such measures of revenge as he madly supposed would
ettectually secure that attention and consideration for his case, which he
detmed it had not received, and to which it was in his opinion fully
entitled.
This unhappy determination heing made, he began to make the necessary
preparations for the foul deed which he contemplated. His first step was
to make himself acquainted with the persons of those ministers who had
seats in the House of Commons, and for this purpose he nightly visited the
House and there usually took his seat in the gallery appropriated to
strangers ; and having obtained a general knowledge of their persons, he
afterwards posted himself in the lobby of the House, in order to be able to
identify them. He then purchased a pair of pistols, with powder and ball,
and had an additional pocket made in his coat for carrying them the more
conveniently.
On the evening of the llth of May, 1812, he took his station behind
the folding-doors leading into the body of the House, and at five o'clock,
as ]\Ir. Perceval advanced up the lobby, he presented one of his pistols and
fired. His aim was true, and the ball entered the left breast of his victim
and passed through his heart. Mr. Perceval reeled a short distance, and
exclaiming " Murder !" in a low tone of voice, he fell to the ground. He was
instantly picked up by Mr. Smith, the member for Norwich, and another
gentleman, and carried into the office of the speaker's secretary, where he ex-
pired almost immediately. Loud cries of " Shut the door — let no one out,"
were heard immediately after the shot was fired, and several persons ex-
claimed, " Where's the murderer ?" Bellingham, who still held the pistol
in his hand, answered, " I am the unfortunate man," and he was inmiedi-
ately seized and searched. Mr. V. G. Dowling was among the first who
^•ent up to him ; and on his examining his person, he found in his left-hand
trousers pocket a pistol loaded with ball and primed. There were also
found upon him an opera-glass, with which he had been accustomed to
examine the persons of the members of the House while sitting in the
gallery, and a number of papers. Upon his being interrogated as to his
motives for committing such an act, he replied, ^ Want of redress, and
denial of justice."
During the momentary confusion which followed the firing of the pistol, he
made no attempt to escape ; and though when taken into custody he
betrayed some agitation, he soon recovered his self-possession, and with
great calmness answered every question put to him.
Durino; his examination before the magistrates UD-stairs in the House
of Commons, he still retained his self -possession, and even corrected a wit-
ness as to an omission in liis evidence. He persisted in denying any per-
gonal enmity to Mr. Perceval, for whose death he expressed tlie greatest
sorrow, separating, by a confusion of ideas, the man from the minister ; and
seemed to think lie had not injured the individual, though he had taken
away the life of the chancellor of the exchequer.
This event excited the greatest sensation in the country. A cabinet
council was called, and the mails were stopped, until instructions were pre-
■^UjtriJm na/ic/iy c^ <jy-e-
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 53 i
pared to secure tranquillity in the districts ; for at first it was apprehended
that the assassin was instii^ated hy ])olitical motives, and that he was con-
nected with some treasonahle association.
Measures being provided for securing order through the country and the
metropolis, Bellingham was removed, under a strong military escort, about
one o'clock in the morning, to Newgate, and conducted to a room adjoining
the chapel. One of the head turnkeys, and two other persons, sat up with
him all night. He retired to bed soon after his arrival at the jail ; but he
was disturbed during the night, and had no sound sleep. He rose soon
after seven o'clock, and requested some tea for breakfast, of which, how-
ever, he took but little. No private persons were admitted to see him, but
he was visited in the course of the day by the sheriffs and .some other
public functionaries. He conversed very cheerfully with the slu'riffs and
others who were in his room, and expressed no regret for the deed which he
had perpetrated, conceiving himself, as he stated, justified in what he had
done; and that it now only remained for the laws of his country to deter-
mine the nature of his guilt, which he did not seem to view in a criminal
liyht. He stated that the question would soon be tried, when it would
be seen how far he was justified. He considered the whole as " a private
matter between him and the government, who gave him a carte llanche to
d(j his worst, which he had done."
Alderman Combe, as one of the committing magistrates, was very active
in his endeavours to trace Bellingham's connexions and habits, and for
that purpose went to the house of a respectable woman where he lodged in
Kew Millman-street, but could learn from her nothing that indicated any
conspiracy with others. His landlady represented him as a quiet inoffen-
sive man, though at times rather eccentric, which she instanced by observ-
ing, that when he had lodged there only three weeks, at ids. &d. per week,
she was surprised to find that he had given her servant-maid half- a-guinea
for herself. On being told the deed which he had perpeti-ated at five
o'clock, on Monday the 11th of May, 181:^, she said that was impossible;
for that she had met him a few minutes befoi'e that time, when he told her,
that he had just been to buy a prayer-book. She represented him as of
a religious turn of mind.
In jail the prisoner requested to have pen, ink, and paper, to write some
letters to his friends ; and he accordingly wrote one to his family at Liver-
pool, which was delivei-ed open to Mr. Newman. The following was sent
to Mrs. Roberts, No. 9, New IMillman-street, the lady at whose house he
lodged. It will serve to show the state of his mind in the miserable situa-
tion to which he had reduced himself :
" Tuesday morning, Old Bailey.
" Dear MADAM,-^Yesterday midnight I was escorted to this neigh-
bourhood by a noble troop of Light Horse, and delivered into the care of
Mr. Newman (by Mr. Taylor, the magistrate, and M. P.) as a state pri-
soner of the first class. For eight years I have never found my mind so
t^-anquil as since this melancholy but necessary catastrophe : as the merits
or demerits of my peculiar case must be regularly unfolded in a criminal
court of justice to ascertain the guilty party, by a jury of my country. I
have to request the favour of you to send me three or four shirts, some
cravats, handkerchiefs, night-caps, stockings, &c., out of my drawers,
together with comb, soap, tooth-brush, with any other trifle that presents
532 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
itself which you think I may have occasion for, and inclose them in my
leather trunk, and the key please to send sealed, per bearer ; also my grtal •
coat, flannel gown, and black waistcoat: wliich will much oblige,
" Dear madam, your very obedient servant,
" John Bellingham.
" To tlie above please to add the prayer-books.
" To Mrs. Roberts."
Soon after two o'clock the wretched prisoner ate a hearty dinner, and
requested that in future he might dine at about the same hour ; and after
passing the rest of tlie day in a tranquil manner, he retired to bed at twelve,
and slept until seven tlie next morning, being attended by two persons
during the night. He breakfasted at about nine o'clock, and appeared
perfectly composed ; and on the sheriffs revisiting him, accompanied by
several gentlemen, he was found to be unaltered in his demeanour. On
liis being spoken to on the subject of his trial, he conversed with apparent
indifference ; but on the melancholy fact of Mr. Perceval's murder being
alluded to, he became less tranquil, persisted in vindicating the act, and
said that when his trial came on before a j ury of his countrymen, it would
be for them to determine how far a minister of the crown was justified in
refusing justice to an injured individual ; and he declared that if he had a
thousand lives to lose, he would have risked them in pursuit of justice in
the same way. He spoke of the result of his trial with the utmost confi-
dence ; and on his being asked whether he had any commands to his wife
at Liverpool, he declared that he had not, and that in a day or two he
should join her in that city.
On tiie 15th of May, 1812, four days after the death of Mr. Perceval,
the trial of the prisoner came an at the Old Bailey. The judges at ten
o'clock took their seats on each side of the lord mayor ; and the recorder,
the Duke of Clarence, the Marquis Wellesley, and almost all the aldermen
of the city of London, occupied the bench. The court was crowded to
excess, and no distinction of rank was observed; so that members of
the house of commons were forced to mingle in the throng. There were
also present a great number of ladies, all led by the most intense curiosity
to behold the assassin, and to hear what he might urge in defence or in
palliation of his atrocious act.
At length Bellingham appeared, and advanced to the bar w-ith a firm
step, and quite undismayed. He bowed to the court most respectfully,
and even gracefully ; and it is impossible to describe the impression which
his appearance, accompanied by this unexpected fortitude, produced. He
was dressed in a light brown surtout coat, and striped yellow waistcoat ;
his iiair plainly dressed, and without powder.
Before the prisoner was called on regularly to plead, Mr. Alley, his
counsel, made application to have the trial postponed, for the purpose of
procuring proofs of his client's insanity, which was alleged in two affida-
vits he held ; and he said that he had no doubt, if time were allowed,
that the prisoner could be proved to be insane. Mr. Alley was here inter-
rupted by the court, who refused to hear him until the prisoner had first
pleaded.
When the indictment was read, the usual question, "Guilty, or not
guilty?" was put to Bellingham ; when he addressed the court : — " I^Iy
lords, — Before I can plead to this indictment, I must state, in justice to
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 533
myself, that by hurrying on my tricil I am placed in a most remarkable
situation. It so happens that my prosecutors are actually the witnesses
against me. All the documents on which alone I could rest my defence
have been taken from me, and are now in possession of the crown. It is
only two days since I was told to prepare for my defence; and when
I asked for my papers, I was told they could not be given up. It is
therefore, my lords, rendered utterly impossible for me to go into my jus-
tification ; and under the circumstances in which I find myself, a trial is
absolutely useless. The papers are to be given to me after the trial, but
how can that avail me for my defence ? I am, therefore, not ready for my
trial,"
The attorney-general was proceeding to explain to the court what had
been done with reference to the prisoner's papers, when —
Chief-justice Mansfield interrupted him, observing, it was necessary
the prisoner should first plead.
The prisoner was again interrogated, when he pleaded " Not guilty " to
both counts of the indictment.
The attorney-general — " I will now answer what has fallen from the
prisoner. He says, that he has been denied access to his papers. It is
true that government, for the purposes of justice, has retained them — but
it is also true, that he has been informed that if he asked for them at the
time of his trial they should be ready ; and any of them, which he might
think useful to his defence, should be given to him : and in the mean
time, if he considered it necessary, he might have copies of them. This
we are ready to verify on oath."
The clerk of the arraigns, Mr. Shelton, chen read the indictment, which
charged the prisoner in the usual way with the murder of the Right Hon,
Spencer Perceval, with which he was also charged on the coroner's inqui-
sition.
Mr. Abbott having opened the case.
The Attorney-general addressed the jury. He said that a lamentable
and painful task devolved upon him to state to the jury the circumstances
of this horrid murder, — a crime perpetrated on a man whose whole life,
he should have thought, would have guarded and protected him against
such an attack — who, he was sure, if enough of life had been left him to
See by whose hand he had fallen, would have spent his last moment in
uttering a prayer for the forgiveness of his murderer. But it was not a
time for him to dwell on the public loss, which had been sustained, — its
brightest ornament had been torn from the country — but the country had
done justice to his memory. These were not considerations, however, by
which they must be swayed. It was not revenge, nor was it resentment,
that ought to have any influence on their consideration of the question.
They Avere to satisfy public justice — to take care, by their verdict, that the
public should not be exposed to such horrid crimes. With respect to the
prisoner, he knew nothing ; nor did he know how his life had been spent,
except so far as related to the circumstances of the case. He had been in
business, and had acted as a merchant, in the course of which be had shown
himself a man of sound understanding in every act which he performed ;
and he had not only conducted his own affairs with understanding, but he
had been selected by other persons to manage theirs. Having stated the
main facts of the case as we have already detailed them, he entreated the
534 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
jury to consider it not as the murder of so eminent a person, but as the
murder of a common individual — to suppose the meanest subject to have
suffered as Mr. Perceval had suffered, and to return their verdict as they
would upon that case. "Was he or was he not guilty ? — to that point they
must direct their attention, and he knew of no reason to cause even a doubt.
But what remained? This only, — the attempt which had been made that
day to put off the trial of the prisoner, on the ground of his being fit for
this or any other crime, as he was afflicted with insanity. Let them con-
sider this a little. The prisoner was a man conducting himself like others
in all the ordinary circumstances of life — who carried on business, none
of his family or friends interfering — no pretence being suggested that he
was unable to superintend his own affairs. What clearer proofs, then,
could be given to show, contrary to the defence set up, that he was not
what the law called non compos mentis — that he was an accountable
being ? He knew the cases where the plea of insanity would be received
— where for instance a murder was committed by a person whose mental
infirmity might be considered as very nearly the absence of all mind.
Against their defence there was no argument. But he was this day to
learn, whether the wickedness of the act which the prisoner was called on
to answer was to be considered an excuse for its perpetration. Travelling
through his whole life, what ground could they adduce for such a plea ?
His every act appeared rational, except one ; and that was only irrational,
because it was so horrid that the imagination of man could not fancy to
itself the existence of so atrocious a deed. But how far must this argu-
ment go ? It must arrive at this conelusion — that every act of gross and
unusual atrocity would carry its defence along with it, that every act of
peculiar horror would have within itself a certain defence, for the barba-
rity of the deed would be considered as a proof that the mind which
directed it was not in a state of sufficient security to judge whether the
action was right or wrong ; and if the mind possessed tlie power of forming
that judgment, the prisoner was criminally accountable for the act. A
man might be infirm in mind, insufficient to dispose of his property, or to
judge of the claims of his respective relatives ; and if he were in that
situation, the management of his affairs might be taken from him and
vested in trustees : but such a man was not discharged from criminal acts
because he could not transact civil business. ]\Iany cases had occurred
within his memory in courts of law, in which it was proved that a person
in many respects had evinced symptoms of insanity up to a certain time ;
but the question then was, whether that insanity was of such a descrip-
tion as precluded or permitted the knowledge of right or wrong ? In every
one of the cases which recurred to his memory, though a certain degree of
madness was proved, still as the parties seemed to have sufficient sense to
distinguish right from wrong at the time of the perpetration of the acts
charged against them, they were held to be criminally accountable. Here
there was no deficiency of understanding whatever — no opinion of others
to that effect was adduced ; on the contrary, he was entrusted with the
management of his own and others' affairs. The question was, whether at
the time the murder was perpetrated he possessed sufficient sense to distin-
guish between right and wrong ? What conclusion could they draw in
favour of the idea which had been sussested? Let them take from their
lecoUection the frishtful nature of the act with the commission of which
THE NEW iNEWGATE CALENDAR. 535
he was charged, let them take from it its accumulated horrors, and the
prisoner stood before tliem in a state of sanity, and fully accountable for
the act, of which, he thought, little doubt could be entertained he had
been guilty. — The learned gentleman concluded by expressing his satisfac-
tion at the fact that the prisoner stood alone on that occasion ; that he was
unconnected with, and unaided and uninfluenced by any other person or
party in the country, and that this deed could not therefore be attributed
to any but the personal feelings which he entertained towards his
majesty's government. On him, and on him only, did the disgrace which
he had excited rest, and the character of the country was en*:rely free
from any participation in it.
The first witness called on the part of the crown was —
Mr. William Smith (M. P. for Norwich), who, being sworn, deposed as
follows : —
He was on his way to attend the House of Commons on the evening of
Monday, the 1 1th of May, and was going through the lobby towards the
door of the house, when he heard the report of a pistol, which appeared to
have been fired close to the entrance-door of the lobby. Immediately
on the report, he turned towards the place from whence the noise appeared
to proceed, and observed a tumult, and probably a dozen or more
persons about the spot. Almost in the same instant he saw a person rush
hastily from among the crowd, and heard several voices cry out, " Shut
the doors — let no one escape." The person came towards him from the
crowd, looking first one way, then another, rather like one seeking for
shelter than tlie person wounded. But taking two or three steps towards
tlie witness, he reeled by him, and almost instantaneously fell on the floor
with his face downward. Before he fell, witness heard him cry, though
not very distinctly ; and in what he uttered, he heard the word "murder !"
or something very like it. When he first fell, witnoss thought that he
might have been slightly wounded, and expected to see him make an eff"ort
to rise ; but gazing on hirn for a few moments, he observed that he did
not stir at all, and he, therefore, immediately stooped down to raise him
from the ground, requesting the assistance of a gentleman close by him for
the purpose. As soon as they had turned his face upwards, and not till
then, he found tliat it was Mr. Perceval. They then took him into their
arms, and carried him into the office of the speaker's secretary, where
they seated themselves on the table, with Mr. Perceval between them,
also sitting on the table, and resting on their arms. His face was now
perfectly pale, the blood issuing in small quantities from each corner of
his mouth, and probably in two or three minutes from the firing of the
pistol all signs of life had ceased. The eyes of the unfortunate gentleman
were open, but he did not appear to know witness, nor to take any
notice of any person about him, nor did he utter the least articulate sound
from the moment he fell. A few convulsive sobs, which lasted perhaps
three or four moments, together with scarcely a perceptible pulse, were the
only signs of life which appeared then, and those continued but a very
short time longer ; and when witness felt Mr. Perceval's pulse for the last
time, just before Mr. Lynn, the surgeon, arrived, it appeared to him that
he was quite dead. Witness remained supporting the body until it was
conveyed into the speaker's house, but he was unable to give nnv
account of what passed in the lobby.
536 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
Mr. William Lynn, a surgeon in Groat George-street, deposed tliat he
"was called to the deceased, but on his arrival he was quite dead. There
was blood upon his white waistcoat and shirt; and upon his examining the
body, lie found that tliere was an o]>ening in the skin. He probed the
wound three inches downwards, and entertained no doubt that the pistol-
ball passed into the heart, and was the cause of death.
]\ir. Henry Burgess, a solicitor who was in the lobby, stated, that after
aving seen Mr. Perceval fall, as had been already described, he heard
acme one exclaim, " That's the man ! " and saw a hand pointing towards
the bench by the fire-place, which is on one side of the lobby. He imme-
diately went over to the bench, and saw the prisoner at the bar sitting on
it in great agitation. There were one or two persons by him ; he looked at
his hands, and saw his left hand on the bench ; and near or under his other
hand he saw a pistol, which he took, and asked the prisoner what had
induced him to do such a deed ? He replied, " Want of redress of
grievances, and refusal by government," or words to that effect. Witness
then said to the prisoner, " You have another pistol ? " He replied, " Yes."
Witness asked if it was loaded? to which he answered in the affirmative.
Witness then saw some person take the other pistol from his person. The
pistol which witness took from the prisoner was warm, and appeared as if
it had been recently discharged. The lock was down and the pan open.
(Here the pistol was produced, and recognised by the witness.) He then
stated, that he put his hand into the right waistcoat-pocket of the prisoner,
from which he took a small penknife and a pencil, and from his left-hand
waistcoat-pocket he took a bunch of keys and some money. The prisoner
was detained in custody, and examined shortly afterwards above stairs in
the House of Commons before the magistrates. Witness related in the
presence of the prisoner, on that occasion, the facts which he had now
detailed. When he had concluded, the prisoner made an observation to
this effect, as well as he could recoUect. " I wish to correct Mr. Burgess'
statement in one point ; but I believe he is perfectly correct in every other.
Instead of my hand being, as Mr. Burgess stated, upon or near the pistol,
I think he took it from my hand, or upon it."
James Taylor, a tailor, at No. 11, North Place, Gray's- Inn Lane, de-
posed that he had been employed by the prisoner to repair some clothes.
He was afterwards in Guildford Street, when the prisoner called him, and
took him to his lodgings in Millman Street, and there directed him to put
a side-pocket into a coat, which he gave him, of a particular length which
he pointed out. He completed the job on the same night, and carried the
coat home.
Mr. John Morris stated that he often attended in the gallery appro-
priated for strangers, and went down to the House on Monday, the 1 1th
of May, for that purpose. He passed into the lobby about the hour of five
in the afternoon. He observed the prisoner at the bar standing in the
lobby near the outer door ; he was standing beside that part of the door
which is generally closed. It was a double door, and one half was usually
closed, within which half the prisoner was standing, and any one to have
entered the lobby must have passed him at arm's length. He observed the
prisoner as if watching for somebody coming, and he appeared to look
anxiously towards the door. As well as the witness recollected, the pri-
soner had his right hand within the left breast of his coat. Witness passed
'I HE NKW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 5J^7
un to the staircase of the gallery, and almost immediately after he got into
the upper lohby, he hoard the report of a ])istol, and found soon after that
it was connected with the fatal event which occurred on that evening. lie
had frequently seen the prisoner before in the gallery, where gentlemen
who report the parliamentary proceedings resorted, and about the passages
of the House of Commons.
John Vickery, a Bow Street officer, said that he went on Monday after-
noon to New Millman Street, to the lodgings of the prisoner, which he
searched, and found, in the bed-room up stairs, a pair of pistol-bags, and
in the same drawer a small powder-flask, and some powder in a small
})aper, a box with some bullets, and some small flints wrapped in paper.
There was also a pistol-key to unscrew the pistol for the purpose of load-
ing, and some sand-paper and a pistol-mould. The witness on comparing
the bullet found in the loaded pistol with the mould, and the screw with
the pistols, found them all to correspond.
31r. Vincent George Dowling was next called. He stated that he was
in the gallery on the afternoon in question, and ran down into the lobby
on hearing the report of a pistol. He saw the prisoner at the bar sitting
on a stool, and going to him, he seized him and began to search his person.
He took from his left-hand small-clothes pocket a small pistol, which lie
produced, and which, on his examining it, he found to be loaded with
powder and ball. It was primed as well as loaded. The pistol which had
been discharged and that which he took from the prisoner were in his
belief a brace ; they were of the same size and bore, and were marked
with the same maker's name. The witness had seen the prisoner several
times before in the gallery and in the avenues of the house, and to the best
of his recollection the last time he saw him was six or seven days before
the death of Mr, Perceval. He was frequently in the gallery during the
debates, and upon several occasions entered into conversation with the
witness. He had often asked for information as to the names of the gen-
tlemen speaking, and also as to the persons of the members of his majesty's
government.
Othe" witnesses from Newgate produced the coat worn by the prisoner
at the time of his ajiprehension, and it was identified by Taylor as the
same into which he had put the side-pocket.
Lord Chief-justice Mansfield then addressed the prisoner, and told him,
that the case on the part of the crown being now gone through, the period
was come for him to make any defence he might wish to offer.
The prisoner asked whether his counsel had nothing to urge in his
defence ?
Mr. Alley informed him that his counsel were not entitled to speak.
The prisoner then said that the documents and papers necessary to his
defence had been taken out of his pocket, and had not since been restored
to him.
Mr. Garrow said, that it was the intention of the counsel for the crown
to restore him his papers, having first proved them to be the same which
were taken from him, and had not suff'ered any subtraction ; and that his
solicitor already had copies of them.
General Gascoigne and j\lr. Hume (M. P. for Weymouth) proved that
tiie papers were those which had been taken from the person of the pri-
VOL. I. y z
538 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
goner, anrl that they had been in tlieir custody ever since, and had suffered
uo subtraction.
Tlie papers were then handed to the prisoner, who proceeded to arrange
and examine them.
The prisoner, who had been hitherto sitting, now rose, and, bowing
respectfully to the court and jury, Avent into his defence, in a firm tone of
voice, and without any appearance of embarrassment. He spoke nearly
to the following effect : —
" I feel great personal obligation to the attorney-general for the
objection which he has made to the plea of insanity. I think it is far
more fortunate that such a plea as that should have been unfounded, than
that it should have existed in fact. I am obliged to my counsel, how-
ever, for having thus endeavoured to consult my interest, as I am con-
vinced the attempt has arisen from the kindest motives. That I am or
have been insane is a circumstance of which I am not apprised, except in
the single instance of my having been confined in Russia ; how far that
may be considered as affecting my present situation, it is not for me to deter-
mine. This is the first time tliat I have ever spoken in public in this way.
I feel my own incompetency, but I trust you will attend to the substance,
rather than to the manner, of my investigating the truth of an affiiir
which has occasioned my presence at this bar. 1 beg to assure you that
the crime which I have committed has a^risen from compulsion rather
than from any hostility to the man whom it has been my fate to destroy.
Considering the amiable character and imiversally admitted virtues of
Mr. Perceval, I feel, if I could murder him in a cool and unjustifiable
manner, I should not deserve to live another moment in tliis world.
Conscious, however, that I shall be able to justify everything which I
have done, I feel some degree of confidence in meeting the storm which
assails me, and shall now proceed to unfold a catalogue of circumstances
whijh, while they harrow up my own soul, will, I am sure, tend to the
extenuation of my conduct in this honourable court. This, as has already
been candidly stated by the attorney-general, is the first instance in which
any the slightest imputation has been cast upon my moral character.
Until this fatal catastrophe, which no one can more heartily regret than I
do, not excepting even the family of Mr. Perceval himself, I have stood
alike pure in the minds of those who have known me, and in the judg-
ment of my own heart. I hope I see this affair in the true light. For
eight years, gentlemen of the jury, have I been exposed to all the miseries
which it is possible for human nature to endure. Driven almost to despair,
I sought for redress in vain. For this affair I had the carte lAanche of
government, as I will prove by the most incontestible evidence, namely,
the writing of the secretary of state himself. I come before you under
peculiar disadvantages. Many of my most material papers are now at
Liverpool, for which I have written ; but I have been called upon my trial
before it was possible to obtain an answer to my letter. Without
witnesses, therefore, and in the absence of many papers necessary to my
justification, I am sure you will admit I have just grounds for claiming
some indulgence. I must state that after my voyage to Archangel, I
transmitted to his royal highness the Prince Regent, through Mr.
Windle, my solicitor, a petition, and in consequence of there being no
reply I came to London to see the result. Surprised at the delay, and
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 539
conceiving that the interests of my country were at stake, I considered
this step as essential, as well for the assertion of my own right as for the
vindication of the national honour. I waited upon Colonel MacMahon,
who stated that my petition had been received, but, owing to some acci-
dent, had been mislaid. Under these circumstances, I drew out another
account of the particulars of the Russian affair ; and this may be consi-
dered the commencement of that train of events which led to the afflicting
and unhappy fate of Mr. Perceval."
The prisoner then read various documents containing the statement
the whole of his affairs in Russia ; and in the course of narrating these
hardships, took occasion to explain several points, adverting with great
feeling to the unhappy situation in which he was placed, from the circum.-
stance of his having been lately married to his wife, then about twenty
years of age, with an infant at her breast, and who had been waiting for
him at St. Petersburgh, in order that she might accompany him to England,
— a prey to all those anxieties which the unexpected and cruel incarcera-
tion of her husband, without any just grounds, was calculated to excite.
(He was here much affected ) He also described his feelings at a subse-
quent period, when his wife, from an anxiety to reach her native country
(England) when in a state of pregnancy, and looking to the improbability
of his liberation, was obliged to quit Petersburgh unprotected, and under-
take the voyage at the peril of her life ; while Lord L. Gower and Sir S.
Shairp suffered him to remain in a situation worse than death. " My
God ! my God !" he exclaimed, " what heart could bear such excruciatino-
tortures, without bursting with indignation at conduct so diametrically
opposite to justice and to humanity. I appeal to you, gentlemen of the
jury, as men — I appeal to you as brothers — I appeal to you as Christians
— whether, imder such circumstances of persecution, it was possible to
regard the actions of the ambassador and consul of my own country with
any other feelings but those of detestation and horror ! In using lano-uaL'e
thus strong, I feel that I commit an error ; yet does my heart tell me, that
towards men vv^ho lent themselves thus to bolster up the basest acts of
persecution, there are no observations, however strong, which the strict
justice of the case would not excuse my using. Had 1 been so fortunate
as to have met Lord Leveson Gower instead of that truly amiable and
highly-lamented individual, Mr. Perceval, he is the man who should have
received the ball!"
The prisoner then went on to state that on his coming to England he
had represented his hardships to the Marquis Wellesley, from whose
secretary he received the following answer : —
" Foreign Office, January 31, 1810.
" Sir, — T am directed by the Marquis Wellesley to transmit to you tho
papers which you sent to this office, accompanied by your letter of the
27th of last month ; and I am to inform you, that his majesty's govern-
ment is precluded from interfering in the support of your case, in some
measure, by the circumstances of the case itself, and entirely so at tho
pre?"nt moment by the suspension of intercourse with the cour^ of St.
Petersburgh.
" I am, <S:c.
(Signed) "Culling Charles Smith."
540 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
'■'• I would beg to know (he continued) what course it was possible for
me, after receiving this letter, to pursue ? If his majesty's government
thus refused me redress, what must be my next step ? Tiie only thing I
could do was, to bring a serious charge against Sir Stephen Shairp and
Lord Leveson Gower ; which I accordingly did, by addressing a complete
statement of my case to the privy council, from whom I received the
following answer : —
« ' Council Office, 'Whiteliall, May 16, 1810.
" ' Sir, — I am directed by the lords of the council to acquaint you, that
their lordships having taken into consideration your petition on the subject
of your arrest in Russia, do not find that it is a matter in which their
Lordships can, in any manner, interfere.
' I am. Sir, &c.
' W. Fawkner.'
"• Having then understood that any remuneration which I might
conceive myself entitled to, I could only procure throxigh the medium
of parliament, I applied myself to several members of parliament, to
ascertain what line of conduct I ought to pursue in order to obtain that
desirable end. These gentlemen told me, that I should make application
to the chancellor of the exchequer — thus petitioning for leave to bring in
a petition upon a subject which, being well founded, became a matter of
riorht, and not of favour. In consequence, however, of this advice, I did
write a letter to Mr. Perceval, from wliom I received an answer dated
Downing Street, 27th May 181U, as follows: —
" ' Sir, — I am desired by ]\Ir. Perceval to state to you, in reply to your
letter of j-esterday, that the time for presenting private petitions has long
since passed ; and that Mr. Perceval cannot encourage you to expect his
sanction in introducing into the house a petition which ]\Ir. Perceval
thinks is not of a nature for the consideration of parliament.
' I am, &c.
' Thomas Brooksbank.'
" I apprehend, however, tliat this information is not founded in fact : if
I am wrong, I see several gentlemen round me, connected with the house
of commons, who will set me right. That there is no particular time
limited for the presentation of private petitions, and that they might be
brouoht forward at any period of the session, I am inclined to think the
usages of the house will permit. The latter clause of Mr. Perceval's
letter, which states that my claims are not of a nature for the consideraticm
of parliament, appears to me inexplicable. If they are not referred to
that branch of the legislature, to whose consideration then ought they to
be submitted ? Yet thus was I bandied about from man to man, and
from place to place. Suppose tliis had been the case with either of you,
gentlemen of the jury, and tliat your sufferings had been equal to mine,
what would have been your feelings ? It is the duty of every individual
to apply through the proper channel for redress, and througii what other
channel ought you to apply but through the heads of government ?
Upon this occasion, however, tliose whose duty it was to have redressed
my grievances treated them with indifference, and were deaf to the dictates
of justice. In consequence of this denial on the part of Mr. Perceval to
investigate a business in which the national honour was concerned, I was
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 541
left at a loss how to act, or what course to pursue : I, therefore, returned
home, and remained inactive for nearly eighteen months, when, finding tliat
I could no longer hold up against the ruinous effects of those failures which
were the consequence of the injustice with which I had been treated, every
one coming upon me for that which I was unable to pay, and my family
borne down by the deepest affliction at the distresses to which tliey were
exposed, I found it necessary to renew my applications, which I did to the
treasury, and submitted to them a petition, reiterating those claims I had
90 unsuccessfully made before. To this application I received for answer —
" ' Treasury Chambers, Feb. 24, 18 0.
"'Sir, — Having laid before the lords commissioners of his majesty's
treasury your petition of the 16th instant, submitting a statement of
losses sustained by you in Russia, and praying relief, I am commanded by
their lordships to return to you the documents transmitted therewith, and
to acquaint you that my lords are not able to afford you any relief.
' I am, &c.
' Geo. Harrison.'
" I next made application to his royal highness the Prince Regent to
have my affairs laid before parliament, explaining anew the disgraceful
conduct of tlie consul and ambassador at Russia, who, by suffering me to
be so persecuted, had been guilty of an act which brought eternal disgrace
on the country. (Here he read documents similar to the former, and
repeated all the statements respecting the manner in which he had been
treated in Russia.) The answer I received was as follows :
" 'Whitehall, Feb. 18, 1812,
" ' Sir, — I am directed by Mr. Secretary Ryder to acquaint you that
your petition to his royal highness the Prince Regent has been referred, by
the command of his royal highness, for the consideration of the lords of
his majesty's most honourable privy council.
' I am, &c.
'J. Beckett.'
" After this I made application to the privy council office, and had
communications with Lord Chetwynd and Mr. BuUer, the two clerks of
that council, who informed me that I had nothing to expect from their
decision. I then applied to know the reason in writing, why the privy
council declined to act in obedience to the instructions of his royal high-
ness the Prince Regent ; which request I was informed by Mr. Litchfield
could not be complied with.
"Under these circumstances, I commimicated the whole to his royal high-
ness, and enclosed to him a petition to be laid before parliament. (The
petition was here read, and the answer of Mr. Beckett, dated March 9,
1812, stating that his royal highness had signified no commands thereupon,
and returning the petition accordingly.) So baffled (he pursued), what
could a man do ? Reduced to the last extremity of distress without having
been guilty of a single political crime which could call for reprehension,
here I was forced to the commission of that melancholy act (burstino-
into tears) which I, as well as my country, have so sincerely to regret.
My wife and my ])Oor children crying for the means of existence, what
alternative had I but to seek redress by some such dreadful act as that
for which I have now to answer ? His majesty's ministers, referring me
backwards and forwards like a shuttlecock, without showing the slightest
540 THE NEW NEWGATE CALK.NDAU.
dispositi m even to regard my wTongs as deserving of the smallest consi-
deration, in duty to myself, I was forced to seek justice, and aveno-e my
own cause. 1 was told I could not get my case before parliament
without the sanction of his majesty's ministers. To General Gascoigne,
tor the politeness and attention with which he heard my statement, and
the disposition he evinced to relieve me were it in his power, I have to
express my gratitude. He informed me, if any of his majesty's ministers
would sanction my claims, and that I was able to authenticate the parti-
culars I had related, he should be happy to meet my wishes by layina my
petition before the house. Supposing now that I should feel little diffi-
culty in obtaining such sanction, and satisfied that by a journey to Liver-
pool I should be able to produce documents which would fully establish
the truth of every word I had uttered, I began to hope that the ooal of my
long-hoped-for wishes was now in view. I, therefore, directed a letter to
Mr.' Ryder, requesting the permission I understood to be essential to my
purpose. Here, however, my expectations were again blasted, and those
flattering dreams of success which had filled my mind with joy were
dashed for ever from my reach ; and this letter at once showed me that I
had no justice to look for." Here he read the letter as follows : —
" AVhitehall, March 20, 1812.
" Sir, — I am directed by Mr. Secretary Ryder to acknowledge the
receipt of your letter of the 17th instant, requesting permission, on the
part of his majesty's ministers, to present your petition to the house of
commons ; and in reply I am to acquaint you, that you should address
your application to the right hon. the chancellor of the exchequer.
'• I am, S:c.
" J. Beckett."
" At last, then, I was told I had nothing to expect, and was forced
reluctantly to notice in a more determined manner the ill-treatment I had
received. To this end I enclosed the particulars of my case to the magis-
trates of Bow Street. (The prisoner then read the letter which we have
already given.)
" In the course of two days I called again at Bow Street for an answer to
this letter, when I received a little memorandum, in Mr. Reid's writing, in
which h-e states that he cannot interfere in my affairs, and that he had
felt it his duty to communicate the contents of my packet to the secretary
of state. Had he done otherwise he would hare been extremely reprehen-
sible, as events have turned out so calamitously — events which go to my
heart to allude to. (Much afiected.) At last, in reply to a letter of the
lath of April, I received a final and direct answer, which at once convinced
me tliat I had no reason to expect any adjustment whatever of those claims
which I had on his majesty's government, for my criminal detention in
Russia. It was in these terms : —
"'Whitehall, April 18,1812.
"' Sir, — I am. directed by Mr. Secretary Ryder to acknowledge the receipt
of your letter of the 13th instant, requesting to be informed in what stage
your claim on his majesty's government for criminal detention in Russia
now is. In reply, I am to refer you to my several letters of the 18tli of
February, 9th and 20th of 3Iarch, by which you have been already in-
formed that your first petition to his royal highness the Prince Regent,
praying for remuneration, had been referred to the consideration of the
lords of the council. That upon your second memorial, praying his royal
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 54'i
highness to give orders that the suhject should be brought before parlia-
ment, his royal higliness had not been pleased to signify any commands.
And, lastly, in answer to your application to Mr. Ryder, requesting per
mission on the part of his majesty's ministers to present your petition to
the house of commons, you were informed that your application should be
addressed to the right hon. the chancellor of the exchequer.
' I am, &c.
' J. Beckett.'
" After this, on personal application at the office of the secretary of
state, and intimating my intention to take justice in my own hand, I Vv'as
told, by the moutli of jNIr. Hill, that I was at liberty to take such
measures as I thought proper. Wlio then is to be reprobated in this case ?
— those who were regardless of every feeling of honour and of justice, or
him who, spurred on by injury and neglect, and with a due notice of lii?
intentions, pursued the only course likely to lead to a satisfactory termina-
tion of calamities which had weighed him down to the lowest ebb of
misery ! I will now only mention a few observations by way of defence.
You iiave before you all the particulars of this melancholy transaction.
Believe me, gentlemen, the rashness of which I have been guilty has not
been dictated by any personal animosity to JMr. Perceval, rather than
injure whom, from private or malicious motives, I would sutFer my limbs to
be cut from my body. (Here the prisoner seemed again much agitated.)
" If, whenever I am called before the tribunal of God, I can appear
with as clear a conscience as I now possess in regard to the alleged charge
of the wilful murder of the unfortunate gentleman, the investigation of whose
death has occupied your attention, it would be happy for me, as essentially
securing to me eternal salvation ; but that is impossible. That my arm has
been the means of his melancholy and lamented exit, I am ready to allow.
But to constitute murder, it must clearly and absolutely be proved to have
arisen from malice prepense, and with a malicious design, as I have no
doubt the learned judjje will shortly lay down, in explaining the law on
the subject. If such is the case, I am guilty ; if not, I look forward with
confidence to your acquittal.
" That the contrary is the case has been most clearly and irrefutably
proved ; no douljt can rest upon your minds, as my uniform aud unde-
viating object has been an endeavour to obtain justice, according to law,
for a series of the most long-continued and unmerited suffijrings that were
ever submitted to a court of lavv, without having been guilty of any other
crime than an appeal for redi'ess for a most flagrant injury offered to my
sovereign and my country, wherein my liberty and property have fallen
a sacrifice for the continued period of eight years, to the total ruin of my-
self and family (with authenticated documents of the truth of the allega-
tions), merely because it was Mr. Perceval's pleasure that justice should
not be granted, sheltering himself witli the idea of there being no alterna-
tive remaining, as my petition to parliament for redress could not be brought
(as having a pecuniary tendency) without the sanction of his Majesty's
ministers, and that he was determined to opjaose my claim, by ti'ampling
both on law and right.
"■ Gentlemen, where a man has so strong and serious a criminal case to
bring forward as mine has been, the nature of which was ]nirely national,
it is the bouuden duty of government to attend to it ; for justice is a matter
544 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
of n'fjlit, and not of favour. And when a minister is so unprincipled and
presumptuous at any time, but especially in a case of such urgent necessity,
to set himself above both the sovereign and the laws, as has been the case
with Mr. Perceval, he must do it at his personal risk ; for by the law he
cannot be protected.
" Gentlemen, if this is not fact, the mere will of a minister would be
law ; it would be this thing to-day and tlie other thing to-morrow, aa
either interest or caprice might dictate. — What would become of our
liberties ? Where would be the purity and the impartiality of the justlctf
we so much boast of? — To government's non-attendance to the dictates of
justice is solely to be attributed the melancholy catastrophe of the unfortu-
nate gentleman, as any malicious intention to his injury was the most
remote from my heart. Justice, and justice only, was my object, whicti
government uniformly objected to grant ; and the distress it reduced me
to, drove me to despair in consequence ; and, purely for the purpose of
havincr this singular aftair legally investigated, I gave notice at the public
otfice. Bow Street, requesting the magistrates to acquaint his majesty's
ministers, that if they persisted in refusing justice, or even to permit me to
brinof my just petition into parliament for redress, I should be under the
imperious necessity of executing justice myself, solely for the purpose of
ascertainino-, through a criminal court, whether his majesty's ministers
have the power to refuse justice to a well-authenticated and irrefutable act
of oppression, committed by tlie consul and ambassador abroad, whereby
my sovereion's and country's honour were materially tarnished, by my
person endeavouring to be made the stalking-horse of justification, to one
of the greatest insults that could be offered to the crown. But in order to
avoid so reluctant and abhorrent an alternative, I hoped to be allowed to
brino- my petition to the house of commons — or that they would do what
was rioht and proper themselves. On my return from Russia, I brought
most serious charges to the privy council, both against Sir Stephen
Shairp and Lord Granville Leveson Gower, when the affair was deter-
mined to be purely national, and consequently it was the duty of his
majesty's ministers to arrange it by acting on the resolution of the council.
Suppose, for instance, the charge I brought could have been proved to be
erroneous, should not I have been called to a severe account for my con-
duct? Bat, being true, ought not I to have been redressed ?
" After the notice from the police to government, Mr. Ryder, conscious
of the truth and cruelty of the case, transmitted the affair to the Treasury,
referring me there for a final result. After a delay of some weeks, the
Treasury came to the resolution of sending the affair back to the secretary
of state's office ; at the same time I was told by a Mr. Hill, that he
thought it would be useless my making further application to government,
and that I was at liberty to take such measures as I thought proper for
redress.
" i>Ir. Beckett, the under- secretary of state, confirmed the same, adding
that Mr. Perceval had been consulted, and could not allow my petition to
come forward. This direct refusal of justice, with a carte hlanchi'
to act in whatever manner T thought proper, were the sole causes of the
fatal catastrophe— and they have now to reflect on their own impure con-
duct for what has hajipened.
" It is a melancholy fact, that the warping of justice, including all the
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 645
^ariims ramifications in wliicli it operates, occasions more misery in the
world, in a moral sense, than all the acts of God in a physical one, witli
which he punisiies mankind for their transgressions ; a confirmation
of which, the single, hut strong, instance before you is one remarkable
proof.
" If a poor unfortunate man stops another upon the highway, and robs
him of but a few shiUings, he may be called upon to forfeit his life. But
I have been robbed of my liberty for years, ill-treated beyond precedent,
torn from my wife and family, bereaved of all my property to make good
the consequences of such irregularities, deprived and bereaved of everythino-
that makes life valuable, and then called upon to forfeit it, because Mr.
Perceval has been pleased to patronize iniquity that ought to have been
punished, for the sake of a vote or two in the House of Commons, with,
perhaps, a similar good turn elsewhere.
" Is there, gentlemen, any comparison between the enormity of these two
offenders ? No more than a mite to a mountain. Yet the one is carried
to the gallows, while the other stalks in security, fancying himself beyond
the reach of law or justice ; the most honest man suffers, while the other
goes forward in triumph to new and more extended enormities.
" "We have had a recent and striking instance of some imfortunate men
who have been called upon to pay their lives as the forfeit of their alle-
giance, in endeavouring to mitigate the rigours of a prison. But, gentlemen,
where is the proportion between the crimes for which they suffered, and
what the Government has been guilty of, in withholding its protection
from me ? Even in a Crown case, after the years of sufferintrs, I have been
called upon to sacrifice all my property, and the welfare of my family, to
bolster up the iniquities of the Crown ; and then am prosecuted for my life,
because I have taken the only possible alternative to bi'ing the affair to a
public investigation, for the purpose of being enabled to return to the
bosom of my family with some degree of comfort and honour. Every man
within the sound of my voice must feel for my situation ; but by you,
gentlemen of the jury, it must be felt in a peculiar degree, who are
husbands and fathers, and can fancy yourselves in my situation. — I trust
that this serious lesson will operate as a warning to all future ministers,
and lead them to do the thing that is right, as an unerring rule of conduct ;
for, if the superior classes were more correct in their proceedings, the exten-
sive ramifications of evil would, in a great measure, be hemmed up — and a
notable proof of the fact is, that this court would never have been troubled
with the case before it, had their conduct been guided by these principles.
" I have now occupied the attention of the court for a period much
longer than I intended ; yet, I trust, they will consider the awfulness of
my situation to be a sufiicient ground for a trespass, which, under other
circumstances, would be inexcusable. Sooner than suffer what I have suf-
fered for the last eight years, however, I should consider five hundrea
deaths, if it were possible for human nature to endure them, a fate far
more preferable. Lost so long to all the endearments of my family,
bereaved of all the blessings of life, and deprived of its greatest sweet,
liberty, as the weary traveller, who has long been pelted by the pitiless
storm, welcomes the much desired inn, I shall receive death as the relief of
all my sorrows. I shall not occupy your attention longer ; but, relying on
the justice of God, and submitting myself to the dictates of your conscience,
VOL. I. -V A
546 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
I submit to the fiat of my fate, firmly anticipating an acquittal from a
charge so abhorrent to every feeling of my soul."
Here the prisoner bowed, and his counsel immediately proceeded to call
the witnesses for the defence.
Anne Billet, wlio appeared under the strongest impressions of grief, being
sworn, deposed, that she lived in the county of Southampton ; she came to
London in consequence of having read in the newspapers of the prisoner
having been apprehended for the murder of ]\Ir. Perceval. She wag
induced to come to town, from a conviction that she knew more of him
than any other friend. She knew him from a child. He resided latterly
at Liverpool, from whence he came at Christmas last. She knew him to
be a merchant. His father died insane in Titchfield-street, Oxford-road ;
she firmly believed that, for the last three or four years, the prisoner was
in a state of derangement, respecting the business which he had been
pursuing. She had not seen him for twelve months until the present
moment. She always thought him deranged when his Russian affairs were
the subject of conversation.
When cross-examined by Mr. Garrow, she deposed, that when in
London with the prisoner about twelve months since, he was going to
different government offices to seek redress of his grievances. He was
then in a state of derangement, as he had been ever since his return from
Russia. There was one instance which occurred at the period to which she
was alluding, which strongly confirmed her in the opinion of his insanity.
About Christmas he told his wife and witness, that now he was come from
Russia lie had realised more than 100,000Z., with which he intended to
buy an estate in the west of England, and to have a house in London. —
He admitted that he had not got tlie money, but said it was the same as
if he had, for he had gained his cause in Russia, and our government would
make good all the loss he had sustained. He repeatedly said to her and to
his wife that this was assuredly the fact. Upon one occasion he took Mrs.
Bellingham and the witness to the secretary of state's office, where they saw
Mr. Smith, who said if he had not ladies with him he would not have come
to him at all. — The prisoner told Mr. Smith, that the reason why he
brought them was, to convince them that his claims were just, and that he
would very shortly receive the money. Mr. Smith t(jld him he could say
nothing upon this subject ; he had already sent him a letter alleging that
he had nothing to expect. The prisoner tlien requested Mr. Smith would
answer him one question — " ]\Iy friends say I am out of my senses ; is it
your opinion that I am so ?" Mr. Smith said it was a very delicate question,
and one he did not wish to ansv/er. Having tlien departed, when they got
into the carriage which waited for them, he took hold of his wife's hand
and said, " I hope, now, my dear, you are convinced all will now end as
we wish.' Since that period she knew that he had been pursuing his object
aloiie^ his wife remaining at Liverpool.
Other witnesses were called, who deposed to like facts and to their
belief in the insanity of the prisoner, but Lord Chief Justice Mansfield
having summed up the case, the jury, after a consultation of two minutes
and a half in the box, expressed a wish to retire ; and an officer of the
court being svt'orn, accompanied them to the juiy-room. As they passed
out, the prisoner regarded them separately with a look of mingled confi-
dence and complacency. They were absent fourteen minutes ; and, on
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 54"
their return into coi;rt, their countenances, acting as indices to their minds,
at once unfolded the determination to which they had come. Tlie prisoner
again directed his attention to them in the same manner as hefore.
The names being called over, and the verdict asked for in the usual
form, the foreman in a faltering voice, announced the fatal decision of —
Guilty.
The prisoner's countenance here indicated surprise, unmixed, however,
with any demonstrations of that concern which the awfulness of his situa-
tion was calculated to produce.
The Recorder then passed the awful sentence of death on the prisoner in
the most feeling manner, and he was ordered for execution on the follow-
ing Monday, his body to be anatomised. He received the sentence with-
out any emotion.
From the time of his condemnation, the unfortunate convict was fed
upon bread and water. All means of suicide were removed, and he was
not allowed to be shaved ; a prohibition which gave him much concern,
as he feared he should not appear as a gentleman. He was visited by the
ordinary on Saturday, and some religious gentlemen called on him on Suk-
day, with whose conversation he seemed greatly pleased. He appeared
naturally depressed by his situation ; but persisted in a resolute denial of
his guilt. He frequently said that he had prepared himself to go to his
Fatlier, and that he should be pleased when the hour came.
Being informed, by JNIr. Newman, that two gentlemen from Liverpool
had called, and left word that his wife and children would be provided for^
he seemed but little affected ; but, having requested pen, ink, and paper,
he wrote the following letter to his wife : —
" My Blessed Mary, — It rejoiced me beyond measure to hear you
are likely to be well provided for. I am sure the public at large will par-
ticipate in, and mitigate, your sorrows ; I assure you, my love, my sin-
cerest endeavours have ever been directed to your welfare.— As we shall
not meet any more in this world, I sincerely hope v^re shall do so in the
world to come. My blessing to the boys, with kind remembrance to Miss
Stephens, for whom I have the greatest regard, in consequence of her
uniform affection for them. With the purest intentions, it has always beea
my misfortune to be thwarted, misrepresented, and ill-used in life ; but,
however, we feel a happy prospect of compensation in a speedy translation
to life eternal. — It's not possible to be more calm or placid than I feel, and
nine hours more will waft me to those happy shores where bliss is withouV
alloy. — Yours ever affectionate, — John Bellingham."
That the unfortunate man was afflicted with a strangs malady, which
occasionally rendered him incapable of correct conclusions, must be evident
from the following note, which he wrote the night preceding his execu-
tion : — " I lost my suit solely through the improper conduct of my
attorney and counsel, Mr. Alley, in not bringing my witnesses forward
(of whom there were more than twenty) : in consequence, the judge took
advantage of the circumstance, and I went of Ijonj the defence without
having brought forward a single friend — otherwise 1 must inevitably have
been acquitted."
On the Momlay morning at about six o'clock he rose and dressed himself
with great composure, and read for half an hour in the prayer-book. Dr.
Ford being then announced, the prisoner shook him most cordially by the
54S TUE NEW NEWGATE CALEND.VH.
liand, and left his cell for the room allotted for the condemned criminals.
He repeated the declaration which he had frequently hefore made, that hid
mind was perfectly calm and composed, and that he was fully prepared to
meet his fate with resignation. After a few minutes spent in prayer, the
sacrament was administered to him, and during the whole of the ceremony
he seemed to be deeply impressed with the truths of the christian religion,
and repeatedly uttered some pious ejaculations. After the religious cere-
mony was ended, the prisoner was informed that the sheriff's were ready.
He answered in a firm tone of voice, " I am perfectly ready also."
The executioner then proceeded to fasten his wrists together, and the
prisoner turned up the sleeves of his coat, and clasped his hands together,
presenting them to the man, who held the cord, and said, " So." When
they were fastened, he desired his attendants to pull down liis sleeves so as
to cover the cord. The officer then proceeded to secure his arms behind
him ; and when the man had finished, he moved his hands upwards, as if
to ascertain whether he could reach his neck, and asked whether they
thought his arms were sufficiently fastened ; saying, that he might struggle,
and that he wished to be so secured as to prevent any inconvenience arising
from it. He was answered that the cord was quite secure, but he requested
that it might be tightened a little, which was accordingly done. During
the whole of the awful scene he appeared perfectly composed and collected ;
his voice never faltered, but just before he left tlie room to proceed to the
place of execution, he stooped down his head, and appeared to wipe away
a tear. He was then conducted by the lord mayor, sheriff's, under-sheriffs
and officers (Dr. Ford walking with him) from the room, in which he had
remained from the time his irons were taken off', througli the press-yard
and the prison to the fatal spot, before the debtors' door at Newgate.
He ascended the scaft'old with rather a light step, a cheerful counte-
nance, and a confident, a calm, but not an exulting air. He looked about
him a little, lightly and rapidly, which seems to have been his usual
manner and gesture, but made no remark.
Before the cap was put over his face. Dr. Ford asked if he had any last com-
munication to make, or anything particular to say. He was again proceeding
to talk about Russia and his family, when Dr. Ford stopped him, calling his
attention to the eternity into which he was entering ; and praying, Bel-
lingham prayed also. The clergyman then asked him how he felt ; and he
answered calmly and collectedly, that " he thanked God for having enabled
him to meet his fate with so much fortitude and resignation." When the
executioner proceeded to put the cap over his face, Bellingham objected to
it, and expressed a strong wish that the business could be done without
it ; but Dr. Ford said that was not to be dispensed with. While the cap
was being fastened on, it being tied round the lower part of the
face by the prisoner's neckerchief, and just when he was tied up,
about a score of persons in the mob set up a loud and reiterated cry of
" God bless you 1" " God save you !" This cry lasted while the cap was
fastening on ; and, though those who raised it were loud and daring, it
was joined in by but very few. The ordinary asked Bellingham if he
heard what the mob were saying. He said he heard them crying out
something, but he did not understand what it was, and inquired what.
The cry having by this time ceased, the clergyman did not inform him
what it was. The fastening on of the cap being accomplished, the execu-
THE KEW NEWGATE CALENPAR. 549
tioner retired, and a perfect silence ensued. Dr. Ford continued prayinf
for about a minute, while the executioner went below the scaffold, and pre-
paratit)ns were made to strike away its supporters. The clock struck eight,
and while it was striking the seventh time, the clergyman and Bellino-Jiam
both fervently praying, the supporters of the internal part of tlie scaffold
were struck away, and Bellingham dropped out of sight down as far as the
knees, his body being in full view, and the clergyman was left standing on
the outer frame of the scaffold. When Bellingham sunk, the most perfect
and awful silence prevailed ; not even the slightest attempt at a huzza or
noise of any kind whatever was made.
The body was afterwards carried in a cart, followed by a crowd of the
lower class, to St. Bartholomew's Hospital, and privately dissected.
The greatest precautions were adopted to prevent accidents amonw the
crowd. — A large bill was placarded at all the avenues to the Old Bailey,
and carried about on a pole, to this effect : — " Beware of enterino- the
crowd ! — Remember thirty poor creatures were pressed to death by tlie
crowd when Haggerty and Holloway were executed," and no accident of
any moment occurred.
To prevent any disposition to tumult, a military force was stationed
near Islington, and to the south of Blackfriars Bridge ; and all the volun-
teer corps of the metropolis received instructions to be under arms durino'
the whole of the day.
THE LUDDITES.
The name of this deluded faction was taken from tbe person by whom
they represented that they were led on to commit the irres^ularities of which
tliey were guilty — Genei-al Ludd. It appears that the cotton manufac-
turers of Nottinghamshire, Derbyshire, Leicestershire, and some parts of
Yorkshire, having suffered under a considerable reduction of wages and
scarcity of work, which they attributed to the very extensive introduction
of machinery, associated in such numbers for tlie destruction of frames and
looms, and the annoyance of those manufacturers who had been most for-
ward in introducing the machines, that those counties became the seat of
the most serious tumults.
The crimes of which they were generally guilty were those of adminis-
tering unlawful oaths, riotously assembling, and breaking the frames and
looms of the manufacturers of cloth, breaking into houses, and in some
instances those persons who had had sufficient hardiliood to oppose their
proceedings were selected by them as victims to their passions, and were
barbarously murdered. The riotous proceedings of the party continued
during a considerable period, but at length tlie active measures, which
were taken by the government against them, eflectually put a stop to their
depredations.
Many of them having been taken into custody a special commission was
issued for their trial, and was opened by Baron Thompson, at the city of
York, on ]\Ionday the 4th of January 1813, in a most impressive charge
to the grand jury.
On Tuesday, the 5th, the business of the court commenced with the
trial of John Swallow, John Batley, Joseph Fletcher, and John Lamb,
5j0 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
for a burglary and felony in the house of Mr. Samuel Moxon, at Whitley
Upper : the jury pronounced them all guilty.
It would be useless to go into a detail of all the cases tried before the
learned judges, all of which partook strongly of the same character, and
we shall tliei-efore confine ourselves to the recital of those instances which
were marked by the spilling of blood.
On the "Wednesday, George Mellor, of Longroyd Bridge, and "William
Thorp and Tliomas Smith, of Huddersfield, were indicted for the wilful
murder of William Horsfall, of ]Marsden, merchant and manufacturer, at
Lockwood, in the "West Riding of Yorkshire.
From the evidence of Benjamin Walker, an accomplice of the prisoners
and others, it appeared that a conspiracy was entered into to attack the
mill of Mr. Cartwright, in which Mellor was one of the principals.
While they were in conversation upon this subject on the 28th April,
however, tlie same prisoner produced a loaded pistol, and said that he was
going to shoot ]\Ir. Horsfall, and tliat the other prisoners and Walker must
accompany him. They accordingly proceeded together to a plantation
near an inn called the Warren- house, at Crossland Moor, near Huddersfield,
where it was arranged that they should station themselves in a line by the
road, and when j\Ir. Horsfall came, Mellor was to fire first ; and in case of
his missing his aim Smith and AYalker were to fire. At a quarter past six
o'clock in the evening, ]Mr. Horsfall called at the Warren-house, on his way
home from Huddersfield market, and had some rum and water, and after
about twenty minutes he proceeded on his way, iinsconscious of the fate
which awaited him. He had entered tiie road, which ran through the
plantation, and which was only a quarter of a mile from the Warren-house,
when the prisoner ^lellor fired and shot him. The unfortunate gentleman
on his being wounded fell on his horse's chine, and a 3Ir. Parr, hearing the
report and seeing him fall, rode up to him, in order to assist him. Mr.
Horsfall, having quitted his horse, sat down by the road side, and despatched
Mr. Parr for assistance, but he died very soon afterwards.
The prisoners attempted to prove an aliln, but the jury withdrew about
twenty minutes, and returned a verdict of guilty against them all. They
were immediately sentenced to death.
On Friday tliese wretched men were brought to the place of execution,
behind the Castle at York. Every precaution had been taken to render a
rescue impracticable. Two troops of cavalry were drawn up near the front
of the platform, and the avenues to the Castle were guarded by infantry.
A few minutes before nine o'clock the prisoners came upon the platform.
After the ordinary had read the accustomed forms of prayer, George
jNIellor prayed for about ten minutes, William Thorp also prayed ; but his
voice was not so well heard. Smith said but little, but seemed to join in
the devotions with great seriousness.
The prisoners were then moved to the front of the platform ; and, after
sayino- a few words, the executioner proceeded to perform his fatal office,
and the drop fell.
On the 8th John Baines the elder, John Baines the younger, Zachary
Baines of the same family, the elder near seventy years of age, and the
latter scarce sixteen, John Eadon, Charles 3Iihies, William Blakeborough,
and Georcre Duckworth, all of Halifax, were tried for administering an un-
lawful oath to John Macdonald ; and all, except the boy, were found guilty
-ii
■i^^te^-^£u<su/c^^ j^/ttCH>\
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 55 1
On the 9th January, James Haigh of Dalton, Jonathan Dcane of Ilud-
dersficld, John Ogden, James Brook, Thomas Brook, John Walker of
Longroyd Bridge, and Jolin Hirst of Liversedge, were tried for attacking
the mill of Mr. WiUiam Cartwright at Rawfolds. Mr. Cartwright being
apprehensive of an attack being made upon his mill, procured tlie assist-
ance of five soldiers, and retired to rest about twelve o'clock, but soon
afterwards heard the barking of a dog. He arose ; and while opening the
door, heard a breaking of windows, and also a firing in the upper and lower
windows, and a violent hammering at the door. He and his men flew to
their arms ; and a bell placed at the top of the mill, for the purpose of
alarming the neighbours, being rung by one of his men, the persons inside
the mill discharged their pieces from loop-holes. The fire was returned
regularly on both sides. The mob called, " Bang up, lads ! in with you !
keep close ! damn that bell ! get to it ! damn 'em, kill 'em all 1" The
numbers assembled were considerable. The attack continued about twenty
minutes ; but at length the fire slackened from without, and the cries of the
wounded were heard. The men that were wounded were taken care of,
but afterwards died. One of the accomplices, W. Hall, stated that he was
one of those connected with Mellor and Thorp, and assembled with many
other persons by the desire of ]\lellor, in a field belonging to sir George
Armitage, Bart., on the night of the 11th of April. They called their
numbers, remained there some time, and then marched off" to the mill.
Mellor commanded the musket company, another the pistol company, and
another the hatchet company : they were formed in lines of ten each.
Two of the men were to go last and drive up the rear. — Some had hatchets,
some hammers, some sticks, and others had no arms.
The jury found .James Haigh, J. Deane, J. Ogden, T. Brook, and J
V/alker guilty, but acquitted the rest.
Several prisoners were on the two following days convicted of robberies,
but many others were, tlirough the lenity of the government, admitted to bail.
On the Thursday, on the grand jury coming into court and declaring that
they had disposed of all the bills of indictment preferred before them, Mr.
Parke, who appeared as counsel for the crown, said that it was not
intended to present any more indictments : he and those learned gentlemen
who had assisted him had examined the various cases, which might have
fi)rmed the subjects of prosecution ; but in that discretion, with which
they had been intrusted, they had determined to exercise a lenity, which
he hoped would produce its proper effect with the prisoners and their
associates.
The grand jury then retired, and sentence of death was passed upon
fifteen prisoners by IMr. Baron Thompson.
On Saturday at eleven o'clock, John Hill, Joseph Crowther, Nathaniel
Ilayle, Jonathan Deane, John Ogden, Thomas Brook, and John Walker,
were brought out on the scaffold to underoo the last sentence of the law.
They appeared to be fully sensible of the awful situation m which they
were placed ; and having hung till twelve o'clock, they were cut down,
in order to make way for those prisoners who were to be executed
subsequently on the same day.
In about an hour and a half after they had been removed, John Swallow,
John Batley, Joseph Fisher, William Hartley, James Haigh, James Hey,
and Job Hay, were also executed. The crowd of persons assembled was
immense.
5-52 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAli.
HUFFEY WHITE AND RICHARD KENDALL.
EXECUTED FOR ROBBING THE LEEDS MAIL.
HuFFEY White was a more expert and notorious housebreaker, and
perpetrated more adroit burglaries and robberies, tlian any other malefac-
tor of Ills time. His first conviction appears to have taken place in the
year 1809, when he was found guilty of a burglary, and sentenced to be
transported for life. Preparatory to his being sent abroad, he was con-
veyed on board the hulks at Woolwich ; but disliking the treatment he
experienced there, he contrived to make his escape, and once more visited
the scenes of his former crimes in London. At this time he became
acquainted with the notorious Jem MackcouU ; and as a means of replen-
ishing his exchequer, he agreed to accompany him to Chester, for the
purpose of robbing the bank there.
White, it appears, lodged in the house of a blacksmith, named Scottock,
in London, who supplied him with the necessary implements ; and the
two villains having directed the smith to forward them the keys, &c. to
Chester, set off for that place early in 1810; and having made their
observations, called at the coach-office for the box of implements. Unfor-
tunately for their project, the friction of the coach had broken one corner
of the box, through which a skeleton key suspiciously obtruded; and an
officer having been made acquainted witli the fact, he was concealed when
White and MackcouU came to demand the box, and having secured them
both, they were committed to the house of correction as rogues and vaga-
bonds.
MackcouU went by the name of JMartin, and White assumed that ol
Evans ; but a description of their persons being transmitted to Bow-street,
an officer was sent, who quickly recognised them both ; and White was
brought to trial at the next assizes, and received sentence of death for
being at large before the expiration of his period of transportation ; but
this sentence was afterwards commuted to transportation for life, and he
was once more sent to his former station in the hulks, JMackcoull remain-
ing in Chester jail, in which he was sentenced to be confined for six
months.
At the expiration of the term of his imprisonment, MackcouU returned
to London, and agreeing with one French to rob the Glasgow bank, they
wished for the assistance of Huffey White, and actually contrived to
liberate him from the hulks, before they set off for Scotland.
On their reaching the scene of their intended depredation, they took
lodgings in the house of a Mrs. Stewart ; and altliough they appeared to
be persons engaged in no particular business, they were nevertheless
actively employed in maturing their plans for the burglary. In this way
nearly six weeks passed away, the most anxious care being taken that no
circumstance should occur which could excite suspicion. The exact posi-
tion of the banking-house, and of all the apartments in which money was
kept, was ascertained and accurately noted down ; and that no chance of
success should be lost, the thieves actually made themselves acquainted
with the persons who had charge of the banking-house, througli whose
innocent instrumentality they procured much of the information which they
required. Their implements having reached them, however, from London,
THE NEW NEAVGATE CALENDAR. 55.T
they found that none of them were calculated for the purpose which they
had in view, and White, who had assumed the name of Down, was de-
spatched to the metropolis with the necessary instructions to procure fit
insiruments. On his return he was amply provided ; and at length, on
Sunday evcninpf, when the honest bank-l<eepers were gone to church, the
burglary was effected, and 20,000/., in Scotch bank-notes, were carried
off. The party judged rightly, that Glasgow was no place for tliem to
remain in any longer, and they inmiediately set off in a post-chaise for
London, changing a 201. note at every stage. From the able manner in
which the robbery had been effected, and from all the doors and cupboards
being found locked as they had been left, it was not discovered, nor indeed
suspected, until the following day, when pursuit, witli a chance of catching
the thieves, was of course hopeless ; but information being conveyed to
London, the fugitives were traced to have proceeded thither, and White
was apprehended in the house of his old ally, Scottock, with a number of
housebreaking implements in his possession. All search for money proved
of no avail however, the notes having been duly lodged in the hands of
an experienced " banker ; " and the exertions of the officers to apprehend
the other offender were equally futile. In accordance with a system
then existing to a very great extent, but now, happily, put an end to,
negotiations were commenced by tlie thieves with tlie banking company
for the restoration of the notes upon certain terms, one of which was, that
no prosecution should take place ; and Sayer, the officer, being employed,
matters were at length satisfactorily adjusted ; but upon tlie notes being
restored, it was found, that instead of the sum stolen, ] 1,041/. only were
given up, and the gulled agent returned to Scotland, compelled to put up
with what he could get.
In the mean time, however, White was conveyed back to the
hulks to serve out the remainder of his sentence, but he soon contrived
again to escape ; but he now confined his depredations to the country,
where he committed various burglaries. While at large, he contrived,
by skeleton keys, &c., to open the doors of the Kettering bank ; and such
was the masterly manner in which he effected his entrance, and con-
ducted the business, that the bankers, Messrs. Keep and Gotch, remained
ignorant of the attempted robbery, until an accomplice subsequently
detailed the transaction. It was conceived to be impossible for such a
thing to take place without, at least, exciting suspicion ; and the informa-
tion was treated as untrue, until the number of the page in which the
London banking account was kept was told, which it was known could
only have been learned by an inspection of the private ledger. It appears,
however, that in this instance " ignorance was bliss;" for although the
thieves had carried off nothing, because the state of the exchequer did
not present a sufficient temptation, they had fully made up tlieir minds to
pay the house a second visit, in the hope of making a more successful
"haul." But from this they were prevented by the apprehension of White,
who was the prime mover of these proceedings, and his execution on a
charge of robbing the Leeds mail at Iligham Ferrers, in Northampton-
shire, on the 29th of October, 1812.
The circumstances of this case are as follow : — The guard having
gone to the coach-box on the night in question from his accustomed
seat at the back of the mail, the robbers contrived during his absence,
Vol. I. 4 B
654 THE XEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
and without exciting his suspicion, to open the lock, and carry off
the mail-baas. Information of the robbery having been conveyed to
London, Richard and John Limbrick, two Bow-street officers, were de-
spatched in search of the tliieves ; and hearing that "White was at Bristol,
they proceeded tliither, having little doubt that he was one of the parties
concerned. On their arrival they found that he was living with
two fellows named Ned Burkitt and John Goodman, both well-known
thieves ; and it was determined to watch them, in order that a favourable
opportunity might be seized to secure their persons. Several days passed
before they were able to attempt the capture of their prey ; but at length.
Goodman and his wife having been taken into custody upon a charge of
robbing the Canterbury bank, of which they were suspected, a favourable
opportunity presented itself. The officers in consequence went boldly to
the house occupied by the tliieves, and having given a loud knock at the
door, they were answered by Burkitt. They immediately rushed in, but
were met with a most violent opposition, in the course of which White
managed to make his escape over a shed at the back.
His career was, however, drawing to a close, and information having
reached the officers that Liverpool was to be favoured by his presence, they
were soon on the look out for him in that city. Early in the month of
April 1813, he was found to have entered Liverpool, and inquiries being
made, he was traced to the house of an old woman named Mary Howes,
alias Taylor, in the Scotland Road there. The Limbricks in consequence
proceeded thither, when their entrance was opposed by the old woman ;
but some force being applied, the door was opened, and they proceeded
directly to the cellar. They there found AVhite and a man named Hay-
wood, evidently prepared to make a desperate resistance, but tlie officers
being equally resolute, after a violent conflict, in the course of which a
pistol was fired by one of the constables, the thieves were secured. Upon
the house being searched a great variety of house-breaking implements was
foimd, concealed under a flag in the cellar, and Mrs. Howes was also taken
into custody.
At tlie ensuing summer assizes at Northampton, White, Kendall, and the
woman Mary Howes, were indicted for the robbery of the Leeds mail; and
it was proved that on the evening on which the robbery was effected, the
two first-named prisoners were seen on the road in a gig near Highixm
Ferrers, and subsequently on the same night at the house of ]\lrs. Howes,
who then lived very near. It was also shown that no other gig but that
in which the prisoners rode passed througli the turnpike on that evening,
and the prisoners were afterwards seen together, and were traced to London,
where White offi'red to negotiate some of the bills and notes, the
produce of the robbery, with one Richardson, who had been before this
time convicted of robbing tlie house of the Marchioness of Downshire.
Forty witnesses were examined on this trial, which lasted fourteen
hours ; and such was the interest produced, that the court was crowded to
excess. The judge having charged the jury, they retired, and soon after-
wards returned, finding White and Kendall guilty, but they acquitted the
woman, in accordance with the direction of the Court ; it appearing that
her offence did not take place in the county in which she was arraigned.
The night preceding the execution of these convicts, Wliite attempted to
make his escape, and had succeeded so far as to cut off his ii'ons, and break
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 555
through several doors ; but he was stopped at the outward gate, and re-
conducted to his cell. At nine o'clock, August tlie IStli, IblS, the pro-
cession approached the place of execution at Northampton. Kendall
appeared deeply impressed with a sense of the awful fate that awaited
him ; but uniformly persisted in declaring his innocence, and said that he
fell a victim in consequence of his having had the misfortune to be in com-
pany with his fellow-sufferer on the night of the robbery. He declared,
on the gallows, that he was a murdered man, and appealed to the populace,
in a speech of some length, in which he endeavoured to convince them of
his perfect innocence.
White's deportment was such as to exhibit his extreme carelessness of
life. Hardihood never foi'sook him, and he more than once found fault
with the manner in Avhieh the chaplain performed his duty. From the
time of his conviction he disregarded the gallows ; and, being humanely
asked by a clergyman if he could administer any sort of comfort to him,
answered, " Only by getting some other man to be hanged for me." He
declared Kendall innocent a few minutes before they were launched into
eternity.
PHILIP NICHOLSON
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
The case of this unfortunate wretch is one of a peculiarly distressing
character, presenting a crime of a most fearful nature, committed without
the most remote cause of provocation, and apparently also without
motive.
It appears that the malefactor was a footman in the employment of Mr.
and ]Mrs. Bonar, an aged and respectable couple, who resided at a mansion
called Camden Place, situated in the village of Chiselhurst, in Kent. The
establishment consisted of Mr. and Mrs. Bonar, two female domestics,
who slept in an apartment at the rear of the house, a groom and coachman,
who slept in a room over the stable, and the wretched man Nicholson, who
had his bed in the hall, and who was the only man-servant who slept in
the house.
On the night of Sunday, the 30th of May, 1813, Mr. Bonar retired to
rest, at his usual hour, twelve o'clock, and his lady followed at about two
o'clock, having been undressed in the ante-room to the bed-room by her
maid.
During the night no noise or disturbance of any kind was heard by the
servants, and at half-past six o'clock in the morning one of the garden
labourers called up Nicholson and remarked to him that the hall door and
window-shutters were open, a circumstance of which he declared he was
unaware. At seven o'clock the servant-women got up, and one of them
on going into the ante-room of her mistress's bed-room observed foot-marks
of blood plainly visible on the floor. In great agitation she communicated
what she had seen to her fellow-servants, and on their all goino- iip to
ascertain the truth of what they had been told, they became alarmed lest
murder had been committed, and determined to ascertain the trutli of their
surmises. Upon their entering Mr. Bonar's apartment, they found their
master and mistress lying dead, the former on the floor, literally swimming
with blood, while the latter lay on the bed, in a similar condition. A
5r)6 THE KEAV NEWGATE CALKXPAR.
■kitchen poker, the instrument with which the murders had evidently been
committed, lay on the floor, and the state of the room exhibited the utmost
confusion. Nicholson was amongst those who entered the room, and he
was observed to be much agitated, and to be very active in moving the
bed-clothes, by which, if by no other means, liis own attire became stained
with blood. One of the servant-women having swooned, he roused lier,
and told her to attend to her mistress, who still breathed, and upon exami-
nation this proved to be the case, and he directly insisted that he should go
to town for a surgeon.
On the road he was seen to drink copiously of brandy, and a little after
eight o'clock he arrived at the house of jMr. Astley Cooper, who instantly
set oft' for Camden Place, in the hope of affording surgical assistance to the
murdered lady, Nicholson went next to the Red Lion, near Bedlam,
where he saw a man named Dale, who had been only a few weeks dis-
charged for improper conduct from JMr. Bonar's service ; and to whom he
used tliis remarkable expression : " The deed is done, and you are sus-
pected ; but you are not in it." He then proceeded to the otfice at Bow-
street, in a state of intoxication, to give information of the murder, and
having mentioned his interview with Dale, that person was brought to tlie
oftice ; but he established a most satisfactory alibi, and was discharged.
Three ofiicers immediately set oft" for Chiselhurst, and Mr, Cooper arrived
with all possible despatch at Camden Place, but was too late ; the wound
was mortal, and Mrs. Bonar expired at eleven minutes past one o'clock,
having been through the whole previous time insensible, and having only
once uttered the exclamation of "• Oh dear !"
" We never witnessed," says one who saw it, " such a scene of horror
as the bed-room presented. Almost the first object which met the eye on
entering was the dead body of Mr. Bonar, with the head and hands
steeped in blood : the skull was literally broken into fragments in two or
three places ; and there was a dreadful laceration across the nose, as if
effected by the edge of a poker. His hands were mangled in several
places, apparently by the same instrument : there was also a severe wound
on the right knee. From the numerous wounds on the body of Mr. Bonar,
the swollen state of his mouth, and the convulsive contraction of his hands
and knees, it is clear that he had struggled with all his force against his
horrid murderer. The most shocking circumstance connected with this
spectacle was the appearance of the night-cap, which lay a few paces from
the head, drenched in blood, with a lock of grey hair sticking to it, which
seemed to have been struck from the skull by the violence of the blow of the
poker. The pillows of liis bed lay at his feet, completely dyed in blood.
The manly athletic person of Mr. Bonar — for, though advanced in life, he
seems to have been a powerful man — gave an increase of horror to this
afflicting sight. The view of Mrs. Bonar, though equally distressing,
excited more pity than terror : though her head had been fractured in a
dreadful manner, yet there was a calm softness in her countenance, more
resembling a healthy sleep than a violent death ; it might have been
supposed that her life had parted from her without one painful effort.
The linen and pillow of the bed in which she lay were covered with blood,
as was also the bed of Mr. Bonar. They slept in small separate beds, but
placed so close together that there was scarce room for a person to pass
between them, Tlie interval of floor between the beds was almost a stream
of blood. No slioht additional horror arose from the contrast of the
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 55*
spacious handsome apartment in which this scene of death was exhibited.
The most heart-moving spectacle yet remained. About seven o'clock in
the evening, Mr. Bonar, jun., arrived from Faversham, where he was on
duty as Colonel of the Kent local militia. In spite of the efforts of Mr.
Angerstein, jun., and some other gentlemen, he rushed up stairs exclaiming,
' Let me see my father ! indeed I must see him.' It was impossible to
detain him : he burst into the bed-chamber, and immediately locked the
door after him. Apprehensions were entertained for his safety, and the
door was broken open, when he wao seen kneeling with clasped hands over
the body of his father. His friends bore him away, and hurried him,
tottering and fainting, into an adjoining chamber."
The officers proceeded, immediately on their arrival, to investiofate all
the circumstances attending this horrid deed, and an examination of the
house clearly exhibited the fact that no stranger had been guilty of the
murder. They were at a loss to know on whom to fix their suspicions ;
when the discovery of a pair of shoes belonging to Nicholson, marked with
blood, and which corresponded with the bloody footprints in the ante-
room, tended to produce a belief that he was the guilty man. He had not
returned to his master's house since he had first quitted it in search ot
surgical aid ; and Forrester, one of the City officers, was in consequence
despatched in quest of him. After a lengthy and diligent inquiry, he was
traced to Whitechapel, and he was there found drinking at tlie door of the
Three Nuns Inn. He was immediately seized, and in spite of great
resistance was conveyed in custody to Giltspur-street Compter ; but he
persisted in denying all knowledge of the murder. On the Tuesday he
was sent down to Chiselhurst, where the coroner's inquest sat on the bodies
of the unliappy deceased lady and gentleman, and the evidence being gone
through before the coroner, Mr. Martyr, he was reading over the deposi-
tions of the several witnesses for their assent and signature, when an alarm
was given that Nicholson had attempted his own life. He had been in
custody of two officers, and requested leave to go into the yard, which was
refused ; but he was permitted to enter a water-closet in the passage
leading to the servants' hall ; while there he cut his throat with a razor,
whicli, it appeared, he had concealed in the front of his breeches. The
gash was so deep, and it bled so profusely, that it was supposed he could
not live many minutes. The head seemed almost severed from his body.
Two surgeons from Bromley being fortunately present, they took th.e
necessary steps to prevent his death, and after a short time he was suffi-
ciently recovered to speak ; but he persisted in declaring his innocence.
In the course of the evening, the coroner's jury returned a verdict of
" Wilful Murder against Philip Nicholson," and he was committed to the
custody of proper officers. He was subsequently visited by many persons
of distinction, whose attention was attracted by the horrible and atrocioiw
nature of the murder ; and on Monday the 7th June, in consequence of
the annoyance and pain to which he was subjected, his wound began
bleeding afresh. In a few minutes the hajmorrhage increased to a most
alarming extent, and fears being entertained for his life, Mr. Astley
Cooper was sent for. The wretched prisoner became alarmed, believing
that he was at the point of death ; and he, in consequence, sent for Mr.
Bonar, junior, to whom he made an ample confession of his guilt, but
assigned no reason for the commission of the diabolical act. In conse-
558 THE NEAV NEWGATE CALENDAR.
qnence of the statement he made tlie garden was searched, and concealed
in a hxurel bush was foiind his body linen deeply stained with blood, the
neck and front of his shirt being much torn, in consequence, evidently, of
the resistance made by the victims to his attack.
The wretched prisoner subsequently conducted himself more calmly than
he had hitherto done ; he declared his repentance for the attempt which he
bad committed upon his life, and, as much apprehension was entertained
of his death, everything that could disturb him was studiously kept out of
his way.
In consequence of the great care which was paid to him, he was at
length pronounced out of danger, and was then committed to the house of
correction, Coldbath-fields, where he remained until the IJth of August,
on which day he was conveyed to Maidstone jail for trial.
On the 20th of the same month he was arraigned upon the indictment
preferred against him, to which he pleaded not guilty. Tlie case was fully
made out against him ; and the prisoner declared that he had only
traversed the allegations in the indictment because he had been advised to
do so by his friends. The jury therefore found him guilty, and he was
immediately sentenced to death by Mr. Justice Heath in the usual form.
Immediately after the sentence, the prisoner put in a paper, and desired
it to be read. The judge said that this was irregular, but looked at the
paper, and told the jury that it contained a confession of crime, which
was imputed to excessive drinking.
The paper which he put in and desired to be read was as follows : —
" I acknowledge with the deepest contrition the justice of the sentence
^,to death which has been just passed upon me. My crimes are, indeed,
most heavy ; I "eel their weight, but I do not despair ; nay, I humbly
liope for mercy, through the infinite mercy of my Lord and Saviour Jesus
Christ, who bled and died for me. In order to have a well-grounded hope
in him, my all-merciful Redeemer, I know that it is my bounden duty not.
only to grieve from my heart for my dire offences, but also to do my
utmost to make satisfaction for them. Yet, alas ! what satisfaction can I
make to the afflicted family of my master and mistress, whom without any
provocation I so barbarously murdered ? I can make none beyond the
declaration of my guilt and horror of soul that I could perpetrate deeds
so shocking to human nature, and so agonising to the feelings of that
worthy family. I implore their forgiveness, for God's sake ; and fully
sensible of their great goodness, I do hope that, for His sake, they will
forgive me. I freely give up my life as a just forfeit to my country, whose
laws I have scandalously outraged. Departing this tribunal, I shall
soon appear -before another tribunal, where an eternal sentence will be
passed upon me. AVith this dread sentence full in my view, I do most
solemnly declare, and I desire this declaration to be taken as my dying
words, that I alone was the base and cruel murderer of my master and
mistress ; that I had no accomplice ; that no one knew or possibly could
suspect that I intended to perpetrate those barbarities ; that I myself had
no intention of committing those horrid deeds, save for a short time, so
short as scarcely to be computed, before I actually committed them ; that
booty was not the motive of my fatal cruelties ; I am sure the idea of
plunder never presented itself to my mind : I can attribute those un-
uatural murders to no other cause than, at the time of their commission, a
THE NEW NEAVGATE CALENDAR. 559
temporary fury from excessive drinking; and before that time to tha
habitual forgetfulncss, for many years, of the great God and his judgments,
and the too natural consequence of such forgetfulness, tlie habitual yielding
to the worst passions of corrupted nature ; so that the evil that I was
tempted to do, that I did : the Lord in his mercy has, nevertheless, spared
until now my life — that life which I, in an agony of horror and despair,
once most wickedly attempted to destroy : He has most graciously allowed
me time for repentance ; an humble and contrite heart must be His gift ;
that gift I hope He has granted to my most ardent supplications : in that
hope, and bearing in mind His promise that an humble and contrite heart
He will not despise, I, freely ottering up to Him my sufferings, and my
life itself, look forward, through his most precious blood, to the pardon of
all my crimes, my manifold and most enormous crimes, and most humbly
trust that the same mercy which He showed to the penitent thief who was
crucified with him He will show to me : thus meekly confiding in thee, O
Jesus ! into thy hands I commend my spirit. Amen.
" Philip Nicuolson.
« This 20th August, 1813."
The signature was in Nicholson's own hand-writing : the rest appeared
written by another hand.
After sentence of death was passed, the wretched culprit was placed in
th.e condemned cell, which in the Maidstone jail is underground. In this
cell i\Ir. Bonar had an interview with him, at half-past five on Monday
morning, 22nd August, the day fixed for his execution. On his approach-
ing the cell, he found Nicholson on his knees at prayer.
At about twelve o'clock, the preparations for the removal of the prisoner
being nearly completed, Mr. Bonar, accompanied by his brother, and Mr.
Bramston, the Catholic clergyman, had another interview with the unfor-
tunate man, soon after which, the hurdle or sledge, which was in the shape
of a shallow box, about six feet by three, was drawn up to the jail door;
at each end was a seat just capable of holding two persons. Nicholson,
double ironed, was first placed in it, with his back to tlie horses; he was
also pinioned with ropes, and round his shoulders was coiled the fatal
cord ; by liis side sat the executioner ; opposite to the prisoner the Rev.
Mr. Bramston took his seat, and by his side sat one of the Maidstone
jailors with a loaded blunderbuss. Everything being in readiness, the
procession advanced at a very slow pace towards Pennenden Heath, which
is distant from JMaidstone nearly a mile and a half, on which was erected a
temporary drop, wliich had a platform raised seven feet from the ground,
and was large enough to contain about a dozen persons. A little before
two o'clock the hurdle arrived, and stopped immediately under the gallows,
when Mr. Bramston and Nicholson knelt down on it, and remained for
a while in prayer. Some time previous to this, Mr. Bonar arrived on
the ground in a post-chaise, and took his stand within twelve yards of the
fatal spot, with the front windows full on the gallows, which he kept open
during the whole time ; but each of the side windows was closed by blinds.
So anxious was Mr. Bonar to get from the unfortunate wretch liis very dying
words, as to whether he had either motive or accomplice, that a person
was deputed to ascend the platform after the cord wa/round the prisoner's
neck, and to ask him questions upon the subject of the murder. The
wretched being repeatedly declared that he had no accomplice in the dia-
560 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
Dolical deed ; and in answer to the last question put to him, — " Had you
any antipathy to either your master or mistress before you committed the
horrid murder?" — clasping his hands together as well as his close bonds
would permit him, he answered, "As God is in heaven it was a momentary
thought, as I have repeatedly declared before."
The above were the last words of this unhappy man ; and in a few
minutes after they were uttered, the bottom of the platform was let fall,
and Nicholson was launched into eternity. He died unusually hard, being
greatly convulsed. It appeared from the account he gave of himself, that
he was a native of Ireland, and had been discharged from the thirteenth
dragoons in consequence of a broken wrist. He subsequently lived three
years with the city remembrancer, and had been only three weeks in the
employ of his late master, Mr. Bonar. Among the servants at Camden
Place he was looked upon as a man of harmless disposition and good
nature, with no discernible failing but one, drunkenness, to whicli he was
so greatly addicted, that he was seldom sober when he could procure any
spirits.
The sensation which the murder produced throughout the country was
amazintr.
MICHAEL M'lLVENA.
EXECUTED FOR UNLAWFULLY PERFORMING THE MARRIAGE CEREMONY.
This villain was a native of Ireland ; and in his migrations through the
northern part of that kingdom, personated, successively, the characters of
a Catholic priest, a Pi'otestant minister, and a lawyer. The last place
we find him in was the village of Ballinahinch, where he went under the
appellation of The Counsellor. While here he became acquainted with a
man of the name of Christopher Jennings, with whom he conspired to
debauch a young girl, named Mary Hair.
This unsuspecting creature was only seventeen years of age, and had
been a servant for a year and a half with a Mr. Knox of Drumanockan,
near Dromore, and having spent the Christmas of 1812 with her parents,
she was on her way back to her place, when she met her acquaintance
Jennings on the road. He conducted her to a public-house to treat her,
and there, as he had done before, made proposals of marriage to her. The
poor girl had before looked upon him with a favouring eye, and she took
him at his word, saying, that if he could find a priest, she would marry
him at once. They in consequence went together to Ballinahinch, and
Jennings took his bride into a public-house where ]\I'Ilvena was sitting,
and introduced him to her as the minister, who was to marry them. A
little coyness was exhibited, and some mistrust was shown by the girl at
her being married in a public- house ; but her scruples having been over-
come, the marriage was directed to be begun.
M'llvena, with assumed sanctity, pulled out his book, and went through
"what Mary thought were the proper forms, joining their hands, and in-
terrogating the parties in the usual manner. After the ceremony, the poor
girl asked for a certificate. This was at first refused ; but as she insisted
on it, the supposed parson took pen and ink, and wrote the following : —
" These are to certify, that Mary Hair is this day joined in marriage to
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 56 1
Christopher Jennings, of Drumara. As given under my hand, this 26th
December, 1812.— W. M'l."
This scrawl contented the deluded girl ; and the parson then intimated
that he was always paid for such duties. Mary gave liim ten tenpennies ;
but he tlirew them down with an indignant air, exclaiming, " Am I to be
college-bred and learned, and not receive my just dues ?" But no more
money was forthcoming, and the parson was obliged to put up with what
he had got, contenting himself with wetting the bargain with a jug of
punch. The unfortunate girl was then conducted to the house of an old
woman named M'Kee, where her husband was admitted to all tlie marital
rights ; and on the next morning she was bid by him to give notice of the
event to her master and mistress, and he undertook to break the
business to her father and mother. The poor girl was parting from
him with reluctance for this purpose, when he told her unblushingly that
she was not his wife, and that she was deceived.
The unhappy girl was immediately awakened to all the misery of her
situation ; and she ran, in a state of distraction, to her parents, to whom
she related all that had occurred. The necessary proceedings were imme-
diately taken, and the counsellor and Jennings were committed to prison.
At the summer assizes for Downpatrick, August the 17th, 1813, they were
brought up for trial. ]\I'Ilvena was first indicted ; and Mary Hair hav-
ing deposed to the foregoing facts, she was cross-examined, with a view to
aiFect her testimony, by endeavouring to make her acknowledge a former
connexion with Jennings ; a fact, however, which she indignantly denied.
M'llvena, in his defence, produced Jennings, who swore, first, that he
had an intimate knowledge of the prosecutrix long before the time men-
tioned in the indictment ; next, that she never represented herself as his
wife ; and that JM'Ilvena never pretended to join their hands together, or
otherwise unite them in marriage.
Jennings, having given his evidence, was ordered back into the dock
from whence he had come, and M'llvena was found guilty ; after which lie
was called on, in the usual form, to say why sentence of death should not be
passed on him. He appeared quite unmoved, and said he was not guilty
of the crime imputed to him. The judge then proceeded to pass sentence
on him ; which he did in a very impressive manner, though frequently
interrupted by exclamations of innocence from the prisoner. The offence
being made by a particular act of parliament a capital felony, he was sen-
tenced to be hanged. He asked for a long day, which was humanely
gi'anted, and his execution was deferred to the 18th of September, on which
day it took place, in the midst of a vast concourse of spectators.
The day after M'llvena's trial, Jennings was placed at the bar, on an
indictment for conspiring to debauch !Mary Hair. He was almost instantly
found guilty ; when the judge told him his crime was much enhanced by
the attempt he had made to screen his accomplice from punishment, in
which he had committed wilful and corrupt perjury. The sentence of the
court was, that he should stand for an hour on the pillory, be imprisoned
for one year, and pay a fine of fifty pounds.
4 c
5G2 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
JAMES MITCHELL.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
Tee subject of this narrative was a native of Salisbury, and his first
occupation was that of a plonghboy in the service of a farmer near hia
birthplace. Having afterwards removed to London, he obtained a situa-
tion as groom in a gentleman's family ; and while so employed he became
acquainted with Miss Welchman, whose life he subsequently took away.
Miss Welchman was a ladies' dressmaker, and lived as forewoman with
Miss Macey, who carried on that business in Mount Street. She was an
elegant young woman, about four-and-twenty years of age, and of a most
amiable disposition. To her, in an evil hour, Mitchell paid his addresses,
under the name of Smith, and represented himself as purser on board some
ship. The credulous girl believed him worthy and honourable, and per-
mitted him to visit her, at the house of her employer, where he was, for some
time, treated with politeness and friendship. At length his own conduct
betrayed the deception he had practised. He obtruded himself at improper
hours, and more than once offended tlie young ladies in the work-room by
the coarseness and indelicacy of his conversation. This coming to the
knowledge of Miss Welchman's brother, he prevailed, with some difficulty,
on his sister to forego the acquaintance of her lover.
In accordance with this advice. Miss Welchman had several interviews
on the subject with Mitchell ; but notwithstanding her desire that he would
not again visit her, he persisted in annoying her. On Friday the 5th
of August, 1814, he called at Mount Street, and was ushered into the
work-room, where Miss Welchman was sitting. He continued there during
the whole evening, notwithstanding the repeated requests made to him that
he would leave ; and, as it grew late, he desired Miss Welclimanto provide
supper for him, and subsequently to lend him money. Both requests were
refused, and eventually at eleven o'clock Miss Macey and her work-people
went away to supper, Mitchell being now left alone. Miss Welchman, how-
ever, returned to him, saying that she desired to be alone with him for
about five minutes ; but she had scarcely entered the room M-hen a loud
scream was heard, immediately followed by the report of pistols. Her
companions immediately rushed into the apartment, and found Miss Welch-
man a lifeless corpse on the floor, a pair of pistols lying by her side, which
on inspection bore evident marks of being the instruments with which the
murder had been perpetrated. The hat of Mitchell Avas also discovered ;
but the window was open, and it was found that the assassin had escaped
by descending into the street, by that means.
On examination, it was found that Miss Welchman had been shot in
the head ; one bullet had entered her temple, and the other had been resisted
by the substance of the forehead.
The murderer, in the mean time, had succeeded in making his escape,
and the officers of justice wei'e despatched in pursuit of him, but without
eliect ; for, as he had been for a length of time out of place, a clue to his
last residence was not easily found. At length word was brought to town
that he was in custody at his native place, Salisbury, to which he had
bent his steps, and wliere he had been recognised by liis old master the
farmer, who, having heard of the murder, immediately had him secured.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 56?
On tlie 1 3tli of August he was brongnt up to Bow Street, in the custody
of Taunton the officer, where he underwent an examination, after which lie
was fully committed to Newgate. He appeared very little affected at his
situation, and preserved a sullen silence.
On Friday, September tiie 16th, he was arraigned at the Old Bailey
for tlie murder of Miss Welchnian. The evidence was circumstantial, hut
conclusive ; and, when called on for his defence, he dtnied the crime with
wliich he was charged, and said that it was not proved the pistols and liat
were liis. He called no witnesses, and the jury having been charged,
retired for a few minutes, and returned with a verdict of Guilty.
The Recorder, after silence had bien proclaimed, pronounced tlie dreadful
sentence of the law, which was heard by the prisoner without the slightest
emotion.
He was executed on the 19th September with a man named Hollings,
who had been convicted of a similar offence in the murder of his step-
daughter, to whom he had formed an attachment, notwithstanding his
having married her motlier ; and whom he murdered in the street, at the
door of her master, Mr. Cartwright, in Lower Grosvenor Street, because
she had refused to accede to his disgusting and lustful propositions.
So great was the public curiosity to see the unfortunate malefactors, that
at seven o'clock on the morning of the execution, the Old Bailey and Giltspur
Street were crowded to a degree almost unprecedented. JMuch money was
given for indifferent seats at the top of the houses opposite the Debtors'
Door ; and carts, waggons, and other vehicles were put in requisition. At
a quarter before eight the prisoners were introduced to the Press-yard, for
tlie purpose of having their irons knocked off", accompanied by the
Reverend IMr. Cotton and the Reverend Mr. Frere, the latter of whom
sat up in constant prayer all the night with Hollings, who joined most
fervently in the devotion. Mitchell, who was dressed in black, was first
brought out from the cell ; he looked pale, and maintained a dejiortment of
sullen resignation ; he did not say a word, nor did he betray the slightest
symptoms of feeling at his awful situation. The irons being knocked off
and the usual ceremony of tying the hands being executed, he lifted his
hand as far as he was permited, and looking up, bowed, and appeared to
be in prayer. Hollings stepped forward to the block with great activity.
He was, however, very tranquil ; and upon being disencumbered of his
irons, he addressed the persons around him in nearly the following words :
" Here, you see, I stand a victim to passion and barbarity : my crime is
great, and I acknowledge the justice of my sentence. But, oh ! the unfor-
tunate girl I loved, I adored as one of my own. I have made contrition,
and jirayed for forgiveness ; I resign myself under an impressiou that
Almiiflity God has heard my prayers, and will forgive me : may you and
the world take warning by my example; and here I confess the justice of
my fate — receive my soul, O God !" At the last expression his feelings
overcame him, and he wept.
The whole of the awful arrangements being complete, the prisoners were
ushered to the fatal scaffold. jMitchell was until this time firm and uncon-
cerned ; but he now became much agitated, and the horrors of death were
strongly portrayed in his countenance. Hollings shook hands with the officers
of justice, declared to Mr. Frere that he was quite happy, and mounted the
scaffold v/ith great firmness and resignation. The clergymen continued to
564 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
pray to them until the fatal signal was given, when the drop fell. Mitchell
continued in the strongest convulsions for several minutes, and appeared to
die very hard.
After they had hung some time, three females were introduced, for the
application of the "dead man's hand," supposed to remove marks, wens,
&c. The first was a young woman of interesting appearance, who was so
umch aflFected by the ceremony that she was obliged to be supported.
At nine the bodies were cut down, and sent to St. Bartholomew's
Hospital for dissection.
MAJOR J. G. SEMPLE, alias LISLE.
CONVICTED OF SWINDLING.
The case of this ofi"ender has obtained considerable notoriety, from the
circumstance of his conviction having been disputed, and from the decision
upon it having therefore became a precedent often quoted in our courts of
law.
Semple, it appears, was born in Scotland in 1759, of a respectable family;
and in the year 1775, at the age of sixteen years, he entered the army, and
went to America. In the following year he Avas taken prisoner of war, but
was soon after released, and retired from service with a pension for wounds.
He subsequently entered the army of Frederic the Great of Prussia ; but
in 1779 he again returned to England, and then married an English lady
of great respectability, vdiom he met at Harwich. During a visit to
France a short time aftervvards, he became acquainted with the Duchess of
Kingston, alias the Countess of Bristol, (whose case we have already given,)
whom he accompanied on her visit to Russia, and having there consented
to join the Russian service, he was appointed captain in the Imperial Army
by Prince Potemkin. During his employment in this capacity, his conduct
was such as to gain for him many honours ; but in the year 1784, being
dissatisfied with his position, he retired to Copenhagen, from whence he
eventually returned to England, and there misfortune fell upon him in its
worst form.
On the 1st of September 1785, very soon therefore after his arrival in
this country, he was indicted for feloniously stealing a post-chaise, value
50/., the property of John Lycett, a coachmaker in Whitechapel ; and upon
the trial, it appeared that he had hired the post-chaise for a limited period,
as he alleged to support the character which he was entitled to maintain,
but that it was never returned. The defence set up was that the transac-
tion could only be looked upon in the nature of a civil contract, and that
the chaise having been regularly ordered and sent home, no charge could be
brought against the prisoner except that arising on the sale of the carriage,
and that he could only be held to be indebted for its value. Upon argu-
ment, however, the court held that there had been a felonious dealing with
the carriage, and the prisoner was found guilty and sentenced to be
transported for seven years. He was conveyed to Woolwich on his way
to a penal settlement, but he was eventually pardoned on condition of his
going abroad.
From AV^oolwich therefore he went to France ; and there he became
THE NEAV NEWGATE CALENDAR. 565
ju^quainted with Beruyer, Petliion, Roland, and several of the leaders of
tlie day. He was present at the trial of Louis XVI. and shortly after
resolved on returning to England, in consequence of the rupture with this
country, \\ hich he then saw was inevitahle. He therefore obtained a pass-
port; he was denounced to the committee of public safety as a spy, who
was going to join the enemy ; but being secretly apprised of what was going
forward, he was able to effect his escape, although with some difficulty,
before the order for his arrest was issued.
On his escape he joined the allied army against France, and distinguished
himself on various occasions, but particularly in the battle of St. Fronde,
which lasted three days ; and at the time of the retirement of the Kinor of
Prussia from this campaign, he found himself incapacitated from service,
and almost destitute of the means of existence. After a short retirement,
however, he had recovered sufficiently to remove to Augsburgh ; and on
his arrival at that place he Avas suddenly arrested by order of the Baron
d'Ompteda, in the name of his Britannic majesty ; but his imprisonment
not being legal, he was shortly afterwards set at liberty.
Considering he had been ill used on the Continent, Semple again
returned to England ; and in 1795 we again find him at the bar of the Old
Bailey, on a charge of stealing in the shop of ]\Ir. Wattleworth, in
Wigmore Street, one yard of muslin, two yards of calico, and one linen
shirt.
It was proved that the prisoner came into the shop of Mr. Wattleworth,
about noon, on the 10th of November 1794, and, showing two patterns,
one of muslin, and the other of calico, said he Avanted them matched for
jNJrs. Coningham, of Egham Green. They could not find an exact match
in the shop to the muslin ; but he chose one ; and a yard being cut off",
together with two yards of calico, he said he would give them to the lady's
servant, then at the door ; and, calling in a man, he gave them to him. He
then said that he had just arrived from the Continent, and should want a
quantity of shirts, and wished to take one with him to consult his sister,
who, he thought, would be a better judge of the linen than he was ; that
he would bring it back in the morning, and then give his order. He called
his sister JMrs. Coningham ; and as Mr. Wattleworth had a customer of
that name, he made no hesitation, but gave him the shirt under those con-
ditions. This happened in November ; but the prosecutor never saw the
prisoner again until January, when he was in custody in Bow Street.
The counsel for the prisoner contended that the charge of the felony
was not made out, the evidence, if true, amounting only to that of
obtaining goods under false pretences. Mr. Justice BuUer, who tried the
cause, admitted the counsel was perfectly right as to the calico and muslin ;
but he did not agree with him in respect to the shirt, and therefore left
that question to the jury.
The prisoner, in his defence, entered into a history of his past life with a
view of shovving, that although he had been before convicted, his general
course of conduct was not that of living by fraud ; but the jury found him
guilty of stealing the shirt, and he was once more sentenced to seven years'
transportation.
Notwithstanding his notoriety, (for there were manyother charges against
him,) many persons, amongst whom were Burke and Boswell, interested
thi^mselves in his behalf ; but after remaining about two years in Newgate
566 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
in a state of uncertainty as to his future destiny, he was at length removed
to Portsmouth, and from thence proceeded to New South Wales. On the
passage a mutiny broke out on board the transport in which lie sailed ;
and Seniple being one of the ringleaders, he, with twenty-eight others, was
sent adrift in an open boat. He had contrived to conceal a quantity of
gold in some soap, and succeeded in carrying it off with him ; and after a
dangerous passage, he and his companions landed in safety at Fort St.
Pedro, in the province of Rio Grande. They were received with great
hospitality by the governor of the Fort ; and Semple was introduced by
his fellows as a Dutch officer and passenger, a tale of shipwreck being
trumped up ; but a quarrel arising among them, their real character was
subsequently exposed. After remaining during a considerable time at
Brazils, in the year 1798 he went to Lisbon ; but there he was arrested by
an order of the British minister, and sent to Gibraltar, and while there,
being suspected of being a party to a conspiracy wJiich was discovered, he
was again arrested and sent to Tangier.
In December 1798, a despatch arrived from England, ordering him home
in custody ; and he was accordingly sent on board a ship, and arrived at
Portsmouth the following April. He was immediately conveyed to
Tothill-fields Bridewell, where lie remained till he was again sent out
of the country.
From this period nothing particular occurred in the major's life until his
return from Botany Bay in 1810, when he resorted to his former evil
practices ; but as he became more notorious he became less successful,
until at length he was reduced to the utmost distress, and had recourse to
the basest means of supporting a miserable existence.
In 1814 he went into a cheesemonger's shop in Devonshire Street,
Queen Square, and ordered a small quantity of bacon and butter to be
sent to No. 42, Cross Street. He met the messenger at the door, and
taking the articles from him, sent him back for six-pennyworth of eggs.
When the boy returned, he knocked at the door, and was informed that the
person he inquired for did not live there, and that they knew notliing
about him. This was true, for the major had only made a feint of going
in to deceive the boy, and had made off when the lad was out of sight.
For this offence he was apprehended, and brought to trial at the
Middlesex Sessions, December the 3rd, 1814, and found guilty, when, for
the third time, sentence of transportation for seven years was passed on
him.
WILLIAM SAWYER.
EXECUTED FOR A MURDER IN PORTUGAL.
The circumstances of tliis very singular case may be shortly stated as
follows : — The prisoner was engaged in the commissariat department of the
British army; and in the month of February 1814, he went out to
Portugal, where he lived in the same house in the Campo 3Iayor, at
Lisbon, with a friend, Mr. Riccord, who had a female, named Harriet
Gaskett, under his protection. An attachment grew up between this
unfortunate woman and Sawyer, who, however, had a wife at the time
in England ; and his attentions were so appaivnt, that they excited the
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 567
Jr-alnusy of his brother officer, and he appears to have remonstrated with
his friend and mistress, which occasioned much infeUcity.
On the :27th of April tliey met at dinner, with two or three other
officers; but such was the agitation of their feelings, that Riccord, Harriet,
and Sawyer ate nothing. The latter appeared greatly dejected, and, as
well as Harriet, withdrew as soon as possible.
In tlie evening the party heard the report of three pistol-shots ; and, on
going into the garden, Harriet and Sawyer were found both lying on the
ground. Harriet was quite dead, but Sawyer had not been mortally
wounded. On his being removed into the house, he was left in the care of
a brother officer, while the others went in search of a pliysician ; and during
their absence he contrived to get a razor, with which he cut his throat in
a dreadful manner, but not mortally.
Next day the officers met, and reduced the facts to writing ; and the
prisoner signed the document, as well as a paper in the following terms :
" Having laid violent hands itpon myself, in consequence of the death of
Harriet, I think it but justice to mankind and the world, being of sound
mind, solemnly to attest that her death was occasioned by her having
taken part of a phial of laudanum, and ' my ' discharging a pistol at her
head, provided for the occasion. I took the residue of the laudanum
myself, and discharged two pistols at my head. They failing in their effect,
I then retired to the house and endeavoured to put an end to my life,
leaving myself the unfortunate object you now behold me.
(Signed) "William Sawyer."
And tliree witnesses.
The word " my," in the above paper, was interlined.
Tiie prisoner also signed a declaration, that Harriet Gaskett had consented
to leave Mr. Riccord and live with him, and that Mr. Riccord had told
her, on her threatening to quit him, that she might go to the prisoner's
hotel. The reason assigned by him for the attempted suicide and murder
was, that Harriet declared that she thought that Mr. Riccord would shoot
himself if she quitted him, and that she therefore would not live ; and he
added, that he had shot her at her own request, and not in consequence of
any quarrel with her, and had then attempted to kill himself.
When the prisoner was sufficiently recovered, he was removed to England,
where, shortly after his arrival, he was indicted at the Old Bailey, April
the 7th, 1815, for the above murder. His case excited great interest, and
the court was filled long before the arrival of the judges.
The facts already stated having been proved, the prisoner was called on
for his defence. He put in a written paper, in which he stated that, in
consequence of his being unable to articulate, from the wound in his throat,
he had committed to paper all he had to say in his defence. The paper
then went on to state that the prisoner had felt the sincerest affection for
the unfortunate individual in question, towards whom he had never
meditated the slightest injury. He perfectly recollected her having
entreated him to slioot her, but had no idea of what passed subsequently,
till some time afterwards, when he was told he had signed papers, of the
contents of which he had no recollection. He then expressed acknowledg-
ments for the efforts made by his prosecutors to bring forward Mr.
Riccord, who would have been a material witness in his behalf ; and had
only to lament that these efforts had not been attended with success.
56 S THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
Several persons were called to speak to the general humane character nf
the prisoner, among whom were General Sir Edward Howard and Colonel
Sir William Robe.
A Mrs. NiclioUs proved that the deceased had lodged with her from
June 1813, to February 1814. She was of a most violent and tyrannical
disposition, and had a pistol, which she kept constantly in her room.
Lord EUenborough having summed up the case, the jury found the pri-
soner guilty, but recommended him to mercy.
Mr. Alley and Mr. Curwood on behalf of the prisoner then moved in
arrest of judgment, upon two technical points which arose upon the face
of the indictment, and judgment was respited until the 12th of May. The
court on that day, however, gave their opinion that tlie grounds of motion
were unavailable, and sentence of deatn was immediately passed.
The prisoner appeared deeply affected tliroughout the proceedings, and
upon the awful decision and sentence, remained motionless for some time,
when at length he faintly requested one of the officers to entreat the court
to recommend him to the royal clemency.
Monday, May the 22d, 1815, being the day appointed for the execution
of this infatuated man, at an early hour an immense number of spectators
tiad assembled in the Old Bailey to witness the awful scene. After the
sentence of death was passed on him, he assumed a degree of suUenness ;
and the only declaration he was heard to make was, " that he would not
be executed : " and this being considered to import that he was resolved on
self-destruction, his intentions, if such they were, were defeated by the
constant attendance of two officers night and day. On Sunday he received
the sacrament, after which he appeared more composed. About three
o'clock his wife went to the prison for the purpose of taking a farewell :
she was announced by an officer ; but the unhappy man gave a peremp-
tory order that she should not be admitted, and all that could be urged
could not induce him to see her. When he went to his cell, he was much
depressed, and refused any kind of sustenance ; and at about two o'clock
he lay down, and soon after became very sick, and vomited copiously.
He continued restless until half-past six o'clock, at which time he was
visited by the Rev. Mr. Cotton, who prayed to him fervently. A little
before eight o'clock Mr. Sheriff' Reay, attended by the usual officers, pro-
ceeded from Justice Hall towards the cell. The unfortunate gentleman
was introduced into the Press -yard by the ordinary : he was very dejected,
and did not utter a word during the time of his being conveyed to the
platform. At eight o'clock precisely, every necessary arrangement being
complete, the fatal signal was given, and tlie unhappy man was launched
into eternity. During the ceremony a profound silence prevailed through-
out the populace. He died under evident symptoms of paroxysm, and a
quantity of blood gushed from his mouth from the cut in his throat. At
nine o'clock the body was taken to Bartholemew's Hospital in a cart,
attended by the under-sheriff and officers. He was dressed in a suit of
black, and was not ironed.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. bfi9
ELIZABETH PENNING.
EXECUTED FOR ATTEMPTING TO POISON A FAMILY.
The extraordinary interest taken by the public in this case at the time
of its occurrence induces us to give it at considerable length, in order tliat
its weiglit and bearings may be justly appreciated and considered. The
propriety of the conviction of the unfortunate young woman was much
questioned ; and upon a careful perusal of its circumstances we think that
at the least it must be concluded that the case was attended with consider-
able doubt.
It appears that Elizabeth Penning was born in the island of Dominica,
in the West Indies, on the 10th of June, 1793. Her father, "William
Penning, was a native of Suffolk, and belonged to the first battalion of the
15th regiment of infantry. Her mother was a native of Cork, in Ireland :
her parents were respectable, and she was married to Fenning in 1787, in
her native town, where the regiment had been quartered. In 1790 they
sailed from the Cove of Cork for the island of Barbadoes, and from thence
to Dominica.
In 1796 or 1797 the regiment came home, having suffered great mor-
tality, and were quartered in Dublin. In 1802 Fenning solicited and
obtained his discharge, with a certificate of his good character, wliich it
appears he merited, as he rose to the rank of a non-commissioned officer;
and he then came to London, and entered the service of his brother, a
potato-dealer in Red Lion-street, Holborn, with whom he continued for
three years, and afterwards lived as servant in a potato-warehouse in Red
Lion Passage, where his correct conduct gave satisfaction to thi'ee succes-
sive proprietors. His wife, for five years, worked for one upholsterer — a
sufficient proof of her good conduct. They had ten children, all of whom,
except the subject of this narrative, died young. At the age of fourteen,
slie was placed out in service to obtain her own living ; and at the latter
end of January, 1815, she was hired as cook in the family of a Mr. Orlibar
Turner, at No. 68, Chancery -lane, where she had not been above seven
weeks when circumstances unhappily arose which led to the poor creature's
being charged with an atten.pt to poison her master's family.
The facts of the case will be best explained by the following report of the
trial.
Eliza Fenning was indicted at the Old Bailey, April the 1 1th, 1815, for
that she, on the 21st of March, feloniously and unlawfully did administer
to, and cause to be administered to, Orlibar Turner, Robert Gregsoi.
Turner, and Charlotte Turner, his wife, certain deadly poison, (to wit,
arsenic,) with intent the said persons to kill and murder.
The case was stated by Mr. Gurney ; after which —
Mrs. Charlotte Turner deposed — I am the wife of Mr, Robert Gregson
Turner, who is a law-stationer in Chancery- lane, in partnership with his
father, Mr. Orlibar Turner, who lives at Lambeth. About seven weeks
before the accident, the prisoner came into my service as cook ; and about
three weeks after, I had occasion to reprove her. for I observed her, one
night, go into the young men's room partly undressed. Tiiere were two
young men, about seventeen or eigliteen years old. I reproved her
VOL I. 4 D
570 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
severely next morning for lier conduct ; and the excuse was, that she vent
in to fetch the candle. I threatened to discliarge lier, but on her express-
ing sorrow for the offence, I forgave her, and slie remained in my employ-
ment. During the subsequent montli, I observed that she failed to pay
me that respect which I considered due to me, and she appeared extremely
sullen. About a fortnight before the transaction now charged against her,
she requested me to permit her to make some yeast dumplings, saying that
she was a capital hand at it ; and she frequently subsequently repeated the
same request. On Monday the :20th of March, she came to me in the
dining-room, and again asked me to allow her to make some dumplings,
and said that tlie brewer had brought some yeast ; and I said tliat as that
was the case she might make tlie dumplings the next day, although that
was not the way in which I usually had them made, as I generally had
the dough from the baker's. On Tuesday morning I went into the kitchen
according to my custom, and I bade the prisoner make a beef-steak pie
for the young men before she made the dumplings, and she carried tlie pie
to the baker's before kneading the dough. I gave her some directions as
to the manner in which I liked the dumplings, and then went away. In
about half-an-hour, however, I returned into the kitchen, and I then
found the dough placed before the fire to rise. I have another servant in
my employment named Sarah Peer, but I am certain that she could not
have entered the kitchen during the time occupied in the preparation of the
dumplings, as she was engaged by my direction in a bedroom mending a
counterpane. I was subsequently in and out of the kitchen two or three
times, and I observed that the dough did not rise. It was in a singular
shape ; and it remained heavy all the time. At about three o'clock we sat
down to dinner, and there were six dumplings brought to table. I observed
to Sarah Peer that they were black and lieavy instead of their being white
and light. jNIy husband, Robert Gregson Turner, and his father, Orlibar
Turner, sat down to dinner with me: I helped them to some dumplings,
and took a small piece mj'self. I found myself affected in a few minutes
after I had eaten it. I did not eat a quarter of a dumpling. I felt myself
very faint — an excruciating pain, which increased every minute : it came
so bad that I Avas obliged to leave the table — I went up stairs. I ate,
beside the dumpling, a piece of rump-steak cooked by Eliza. When I was
up stairs I perceived my sickness increased, and I observed my head was
swollen extremely. I retched very violently : I was half an hour alone,
and wondered they did not come to my assistance. I found my husband
and father very ill — both of them. I was very ill from haif-past-three
until about nine ; the violence then abated, but did not cease. 3Iy head
and my tongue and chest were swollen. We called in a gentleman who
was near, and afterwards Mr. Marshall, the surgeon. We applied for the
nearest assistance we could get.
Cross-examined hy Mr. Alley. — This happened about six weeks after
the girl came to live with me. I have heard the prisoner herself was taken
very ill.
Orlibar Turner deposed — I am the father of Robert Gregson Turner. On
Tuesday, the 21st day of March, I was at my son's house in Chancery-
lane : I dined there. The dinner consisted of yeast dumplings, beef-steaks,
and potatoes. After some time Mrs. Turner left the room indisposed. At
the time she left the room I did not know she was ill. Sometime after my
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 571
son left the room, and went down stairs. I followed liim vorj'- shortly. I
met my son in tlie passage at the foot of the stairs : he told me that he
had been very sick, and had brought up his dinner. I found his eyes
exceedingly swollen. I said I thought it very extraordinary, and I was
taken ill myself in less than three minutes afterwards. The effect' was so
violent, I had hardly time to go into the back yard before my dinner came
up. I felt considerable heat across my stomach and chest, and pain : I
never experienced any vomiting before like it, for violence ; it was tei'rible
indeed. It was not more than a quarter of an hour when my apprentice,
Roger Gadsden, was very ill, in a similar way to myself. "While we were
sick I was repeatedly in the parlour and the back yard. My son was up
and down stairs at intervals ; Gadsden, I believe, was in the kitchen below.
The prisoner gave no assistance. We were all alarmed : but it vv'as dis-
covei'ed that she did not appear concerned at our situation. I did not
observe the prisoner eat any of the dumplings. I had a suspicion of arsenic,
and made a search tlie next morning. I then observed in the pan, in
which the dumplings had been mixed, that there was a wliite powder, un-
like flour, and I retained it in my possession until I gave it into the hands
of Mr. Marsliall. Arsenic had been kept in the drawer in the office, tied up
in a paper very tightly, and labelled " Arsenic, poison," in large characters.
I saw the parcel there on the 7th of March, but not since that time. It
was missed about a fortnight before the 21st of March. The prisoner mav
have seen the parcel, as she usually resorted to the drawer for paper to
light her fires. After dinner I remarked that tlie knives with which the
dumplings had been cut had changed colour. They turned black and they
still remain so. I spoke to the prisoner about the dumplings on the Wed-
nesday, and I asked her how she came to put anything into them so hurt-
ful, but she answered that it was not in anything which she had prepared,
but in the milk which Sarah Peer had brought in, and with which her
mistress had ordered her to make the sauce. That milk had been used in
the sauce only. The dumplings had been mixed with tlie milk which had
been left at breakfast.
Roger Gadsden said, I am an apprentice to Mr. Turner. I remember
seeing the packet of arsenic in the drawer, and I missed it a day or two
after the 7th of March. On Tuesday, the 21st of March, I went into the
kitchen between three and four o'clock, and I observed a plate on the table,
on which were a dumpling and a half. I had dined at two o'clock, but I
took up a knife and fork, and was going to eat the dumpling, when the
prisoner exclaimed, " Gadsden, do not eat that ; it is cold and heavy ; it
will do you no good." I ate a piece about the size of a walnut, and there
being some sauce in the boat, I sopped it up with a piece of bread and ate
it. I then went into the office, and Mr. Turner came there in about ten
minutes after, and said he was very ill. About ten minutes after that
I was taken ill, but not so ill as to vomit. I was sent off for Mr.
Turner's mother. I was very sick going and coming — I thought I should
die. The prisoner had made yeast dumjilings for supper the niffht before :
I and Peer and the prisoner partook of them : they were quite different
from these dumplings in point of colour and weight, and very good.
Margaret Turner sworn. — I was sent for. When I arrived I found my
husband, son, and daughter, extremely ill. The prisoner, very soon after
I was tliere, was ill, and vomiting. I exclaimed to her, " Oh, these
■^72 THK NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
devilish dumplings !" supposing they had done the mischief She said, " Not
the dumplings, but the milk, madam." I asked her " What milk ?" She
said, " The halfpenny-worth of milk that Sally fetched, to make the
sauce." She said my daughter made the sauce. I said, " That cannot
be ; it could not be the sauce." She said, " Yes ; Gadsden ate a very
little bit of dumpling, not bigger than a nut ; but licked up three parts of
a boat of sauce with a bit of bread."
Mrs. Turner, jun., being called, said — " The sauce was made with the
milk brouglit by Sarah Peer. I mixed it, and left it for her to make."
Robert Gr(>gson Turner sworn. — I partook of the dumplings at dinner ;
I ate none of the sauce whatever. Soon after dinner I was taken ill : I
first felt an inclination to be sick ; I then felt a strong heat across my
chest. I was extremely sick ; I was exactly as my fiither and wife were.
I had eaten a dumpling and a half, and I suffered more than any other
person. I should presume that the symptoms were such as would be pro-
duced by poison.
Sarah Peer sworn. — I have been servant to Mrs. Turner near eleven
months. I recollect the warning given to the prisoner some time after she
came. After that I heard her say she should not like Mr. or Mrs. Robert
Turner any more. On the 21st of March I went for some milk after two
o'clock, after I had dined with the prisoner on beef-steak pie. I had no
concern whatever in making the dough for the dumplings, or in making the
sauce. I was not in the kitchen when the dough was made: I never
meddled with it, or put anything to it ; I never was in the kitchen after I
w^ent up to make the beds, a quarter after eleven, imtil dinner time. I
had permission to go out that afternoon, directly after I took up the
dumplings, I went out directly. I came home at nine o'clock exactly. I
ate none of the dumplings myself. In eating the beef-steak pie, I ate some
of the crust. I was not at all ill. I had eaten some dumplings she had
made the night before : I never tasted any better. They were all made
out of the same flour. I had no difference with my mistress at any time.
Cross-examined hy Mr. Alley. — I had occasionally quarrelled with the
prisoner. I went sometimes to visit my friends, but it was generally on
Sundays. I never went on a week-day except on this occasion. I know
nothing of the drawer in which the arsenic was. The paper which I used
for lighting fires was kept in the dining-room. I never went to the drawer
in the office, nor did I ever see or hear of any poison being kept there.
An officer of Ilatton Garden and the brewer's man were then successively
exam.ined. The first proved that on his apprehending the prisoner, she
declared that she thought the poison must have been in the yeast, as she
saw a red settlement in it after she had used it, and the second stated that
the yeast was good, and that he delivered it to the girl Peer.
Mr. John Marshall, a surgeon, was then sworn, and he stated that on
his being called in to Mr. Orlibar Turner's family ho found them all labour-
ing under symptoms of having taken arsenic, and that the prisoner was
also ill, and exhibited similar symptoms. On the following day he saw a
pan, and on his examining its contents he found them to contain arsenic.
He had also examined the yeast which was left and the flour tub, and they
were both devoid of arsenic. The poison being cut would blacken the knife.
The case for the prosecution being closed, the prisoner made the follow-
ing defence ; —
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 573
" I am truly innocent of the whole charge ; I am innocent ; indeed I am.
I liked my place, and was very comfortable. Gadsden behaved improperly
to me : my mistress came and saw me undressed ; she said she did not like
it; I said ' Ma'am, it is Gadsden that has taken a liberty with me.' Trie
next morning I said, ' I hope you do not think anything of what passed
last night.' She was in a great passion, and said she would not put up
with it ; 1 was to go away directly. I did not look upon Mrs. Turner as
my mistress, but upon the old lady. In the evening the old lady came to
town ; I said, ' I am going away to-night ;' Mrs. Turner said, ' Do not
think any more about it ; I don't.' She asked Mrs. Robert Turner if she
was willing for me to go. She said ' No, she thought no more about it.'
As to my master saying I did not assist him, I was ton ill. I had no con-
cern with that drawer at all ; when 1 wanted a piece of paper I always
asked for it."
The prisoner called five witnesses, who gave her an excellent character
for integrity, sobriety, cheerfulness, and humanity. One of them was pro-
ceeding to state an accidental conversation wliicli he had with the prisoner
two days after slie had ordered the yeast, wherein she declared herself
happy and contented with her situation, and pleased with her master and
mistress ; but the recorder stopped him, saying it was not evidence.
A\''hilst tlie trial was proceeding, William Penning, the father of the
prisoner, went to a public-house, and got a person (for he was too agitated
himself) to write on a slip of paper, that on the iJlst of March he went to
Mr. Turner's, his daughter having sent for him in tlie morning, and that
Sarah Peer told him Eliza had gone with a message for her mistress, whilst,
at the same time, she was in agonies below-stairs from the eflect of having
eaten of the dumplings. He then went home, and thought no more
about it.
When this note was written, it was handed to IMr. Alley, who, standing
upon tiptoe, showed it to the recorder, who leaned over and looked at it,
but no further notice was taken of it.
Other efforts were made by the prisoner to produce witnesses, but as
they were not in attendance, the court said that it was too late, and that
the trial could not be suspended for their coming.
The recorder then proceeded to sum up the case, and the jury in a few
minutes brought in a verdict of guilty. The recorder having then passed
sentence of death upon her, the miserable girl was carried from the bar
convulsed with agony, and uttering frightful screams.
Few cases ever excited greater interest than that of Eliza Fenning ; and
we are happy in being able to state that her religious principles were
correct, and her professions sincere. Through life she was distinguished by
a superiority of intellect, and a propriety of deportment, which could
hardly be reconciled with the depravity of which she was accused. In
person she was short of stature, but of the most perfect symmetry; while
her countenance evinced a heart at ease, and a mind at once intellectual and
lively. She had been before the fatal transaction betrothed to a young
man, to whom she appears to have been sincerely attached.
After the unfortunate girl's conviction she was induced to apply to the
Crown for a remission of the sentence of death, and sent a petition to the
prince regent. She next addressed the lord cliancellor, to whom she sent a
statement of all the exculpatory circumstanctes of her case. She also sent a
574 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENPAR.
letter to Lord Sidmouth, and another to her late master, requesting him to
sign a petition in her favour, witli which however he refused to comply.
Several gentlemen interested themselves in the fate of the poor girl ; and
Mr. Montagu, of Lincoln's Inn, waited on the recorder, offering to produce
evidence of a member of Mr. Turner's family, who was insane, having
declared that he would poison the family ; but the recorder assured him
that the production of such evidence would be wholly useless.
Tlie niglit before her execution a meeting of gentlemen took place in Mr.
Newman's apartments in Newgate, at which Mr. Gibson, of the house of
Corbyn and Co., chemists, No. 300, Holborn, stated that Robert Gregson
Turner, in the month of September or October, called at their house in a
wild and deranged state, requesting to be put under restraint, otherwise he
declared he should destroy himself and wife. Mr. Gibson also stated that
it was well known in the family that Robert Turner was occasionally
subject to such violent and strange conduct.
With this information Mr. Gibson, accompanied by a clerk from the
secretary of state's office, waited on the recorder, requesting that the
unfortunate girl might be respited to admit of investigation ; but all was of
no avail, and in twelve hours after, Eliza Fenning was executed !
From the moment the poor girl was first charged with the poisoning,
however or by whomsoever questioned, she never faltered in her denial of
the crime, and rather courted than shunned an investigation of her case.
So many circumstances, which had developed themselves subsequently to
the trial, had been communicated to the secretary of state by the gentle-
men who interested themselves in her favour (among whom were some
of great respectability), that a reprieve was confidently expected to the
last : and the order for her execution, four months after her conviction, was
received with very great surprise.
On Tuesday morning, the 25th July, she took her last farewell of her
father, who, by the firmness of his manner, exemplified the courage he
wished his child to sustain upon the scaffold : but with her mother the
parting scene was heart-rending.
On the fatal morning, the 26th July, 1815, she slept till four o'clock,
when she arose, and, after carefully washing herself, and spending some
time in prayer, she dressed herself neatly in a white muslin gown and cap.
About eight o'clock she walked steadily to the spot where criminals are
bound ; and, whilst the executioner tied her hands — even whilst he wound
the halter round her waist — she stood erect and unmoved, with astonishing
fortitude. At this moment a gentleman who had greatly interested himself
in her behalf adjured her, in the name of that God in whose presence she
was about to appear, if she knew anything of the crime for which she was
about to suffer, to make it known ; when she replied distinctly and clearly,
" Before God then, I die innocent !" The question was again put by the
reverend Mr. Vazie, as well as by the ordinary, and finally by Oldfield,
a prisoner who suffered with her, and to each she repeated " I am inno-
cent." These were her last words ; and she died without a struggle, at
the age of twenty-one.
Her miserable parents, on application for her body, were not prepared to
pay the executioner's fees of fourteen shillings and sixpence : but having
borrowed the money witli some difficulty, the remains of their daughter
wire handed over to them.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 575
We h.ave endeavoured to give the circumstances of tills case as clearly
and with as little prejudice as possihle, but we should not do our duty, if
we were not to state that the public mind was much inflamed at the
execution of the unhappy prisoner. Thousands of persons, after examining
the evidence adduced at the trial, did not hesitate to express their opinions
very strongly upon the subject of the case ; and many of the lower orders,
apparently convinced of the innocence of the sufferer, assembled in front of
Mr. Turner's house, in Chancery-lane, hooting and hissing, and otherwise
expressing their indignation, at what they conceived to be their unjust
prosecution of their servant. The police were active in their exertions to
suppress the tumult ; and an affidavit made by Davis, a turnkey in
Newgate, was industriously circulated, in which the deponent swore that
old Penning had conjured his daughter, when she went upon the scaff'old,
to declare her innocence : a counter affidavit of the father of the wretched
girl, however, was produced and published, and the assertion of the jailer
was at length admitted to have been founded upon a mistaken interpreta-
tion of what had really passed. The mob continued to assemble for many
days, and it was not until the police had taken very vigorous measures
against them, that they were finally dispersed. The public still sympathised
with the unliappy parents of Eliza Fenning, and a subscription was entered
into for their benefit.
JOSEPH BLACKBURN.
EXECUTED FOR FORGERY.
The particulars of tlie melancholy case of this unfortunate gentleman,
will be best described by the report of his trial which has reached us,
which took place at York on the 18th March 1815, before Sir Simon
Le Blanc. He was then placed at the bar and arraigned on two indict-
ments, charging him with forging and counterfeiting the impression of a
certain stamp or die, used under the direction of the Commissioners of
Stamps, to denote the payment of certain duties imposed on various deeds
and other securities, on vellum, parchment, or paper, and also with
littering the same, knowing it to be forced, with an intent to defraud the
revenue of the duties imposed on such stamped vellum, parchment, or
paper. To these indictments he pleaded — Not guilty. Mr. Blackburn
was then arraigned on two other indictments, charging him with feloni-
ously removing stamps from executed deeds, and affixing them upon
others, with an intent to defraud the revenue ; to these indictments he also
pleaded — Not guilty. Pie was then charged in another indictment with
the same offi^nce, jointly with Mr. Thomas Wainewright, who was charged
with feloniously aiding and assisting in this illegal removal of stamps. To
this indictment both tlie prisoners severally pleaded — Not guilty.
As soon as the jury were sworn, Mr. Wainewright, at the suggestion of
the counsel for the prosecution, retired from the bar, and the court pro-
ceeded to the trial of ]\Ir. Blackburn, on one of the capital indictments for
forgery. The clerk of the arraigns read the indictment. It charged the
prisoner v/ith feloniously forging, and counterfeiting the resemblance of a
certain stamp or die, used by the Commissioners of Stamps, to denote the
payment of duties imposed on vellum, parchment, and paper, viz. for the
576 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
payment of two pounds, imposed by the 48th of George III. on mortwacre
deeds, with intent to defraud his Majesty, his heirs, or successors. Another
count in the indictment charged him with uttering the said forged stamps,
knowing the same to be false, forged, and counterfeited, with the like
intent to defraud his Majesty, his heirs, or successors.
The counsel for the crown were, Mr. Park, Mr. Topping, Mr. Wailes,
and Mr. Richardson.
Tiie counsel for the prisoner — Mr. Scarlett, Mr. Littledale, and Mr.
Williams.
Mr. Park opened the case to the jury, and said, — I am counsel against
the unfortunate gentleman now at the bar. This is a prosecution by the
Commissioners of Stamps, who in the discharge of their professional duty
have thought it incumbent upon them to institute this inquiry, and which
indeed they could not have omitted to do without a gross dereliction of the
duty they owed to the public. They have no interest in this prosecution,
and whatever be the result of this day's inquiry, they will be satisfied
with your decision. The crime imputed to the prisoner by this indict-
ment, is not merely calculated to defraud the public revenue, but tends to
affect the security of the property of individuals, and that in the most
serious manner, for if deeds, or other written instruments for the transfer
of property, have afl&xed to them forged or improper stamps, they have no
validity, and convey no rights to the parties in whose favour they are
executed. This consideration must at once impress you with a conviction
of the great importance of the present case ; as the conveyance of property
by instruments the most solemn known to the law, is thereby defeated,
the contract becomes invalid, and the deed by which it was intended to be
effected, of no possible use. Nor is it too much to say, that the rights of
future generations may be affected by the consequences of the crime imputed
to the prisoner.
It is, gentlemen, with the most unfeigned concern, that I have risen to
address you on the present occasion. This is the first time, during a
practice of thirty years at the bar, that it has fallen to my lot to be
concerned in a prosecution for felony against any person with whom I
have had any personal acquaintance. Mr. Blackburn (the prisoner) I
have long known ; he has conducted actions in which I have been engaged
for him, and others in which I have been retained by the adverse party :
and though when I first heard the name I did not know how to affix it to
the person, yet now, when (for the first time since this prosecution has
been deyjending) I see him, I find that I know the gentleman perfectly
well. We at the bar are, however, bound to aid the administration of the
public justice of the country, and must do justice to the country, and to
the crown, on whose behalf we are engaged, and cannot shrink from the
performance of our professional duty, however painful to our feelings the
exercise of it may occasionally be. But the Government, the Commis-
sioners of Stamps, and those who on their account conduct this prosecu-
tion, are very far from having any wish to oppress these individuals ; their
only desire is, that justice should be done between them and the coimtry,
and this justice I have no doiibt will be done by you.
If the prisoner is guilty of the offence imputed to him by this indictment,
his crime is greater than that of any otiier individual, because there is no
one who is so much obliged by his profession to undei-stand the principles
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 577
of morality. The very first rudiments of his profession must have rendered
familiar to him those principles of justice on which the law is founded ;
and in his long attendance at these courts, he must (in addition to sound
lessons of law) have heard the principles of moral obligation enfurced by
the learned judges who have from time to time presided here, and which
ouorht to have had the effect of rooting them in his mind.
Having made these few prelimmary observations, I shall proceed to state
the nature of the charge against the prisoner, and the evidence by which
that charge is meant to be substantiated. The charge against tlie prisoner
is that of having forged, or caused to be forged, or counterfeited, the
impression of a certain stamp or die, used by the commissioners (appointed
by his Majesty, to manage the duties on stamped vellum, parchment, or
paper) to denote the payment of a certain duty, imposed by the 48th of
the King, on mortgage deeds, which are laid ad valorem^ that is, in a ratio
proportioned to the money secured by sucli deeds. Tlie amount of tlie
money secured by the deed which is the subject of this inquiry, is 180/.,
and the stamp required for this sum, must be of the value of 21. ; for in the
schedule atlixed to the act, it states, that from 150^. to a sum not exceeding
200/. the duty shall be '21, Tlie subject-matter of this prosecution is, that
in order to evade the duty imposed by this act, tlie prisoner affixed a forged
and counterfeit stamp to an instrument, purporting to be a mortgage deed;
and also that he uttered or publislied the same, well knowing it to be false,
forged, or counterfeited. The penal act on which this prosecution is
founded, is an act of tlie 5:2nd year of tlie king, intituled, " An act foi
amending and reducing into one act, the provisions contained in any laws
now in force, imposing the penalty of death, for any act done in breach of
or in resistance to any part of the laws, for collecting His Majesty's revenue
in Great Britain." In this statute, cap. 140, section 7, it is enacted, "that
if any person shall, after the passing of this act, forge or counterfeit, or
cause to be forged or counterfeited, any mark, stamp, die, or plate, which
in pursuance of any act or acts of parliament, shall have been provided,
made or used, by or under tlie direction of the commissioners, appointed
to manage the duties on stamped vellum, parchments, or paper, or by or
under the direction of any other person or persons, legally authorised in
that behalf, for expressing or denoting any duty or duties, or any part
thereof, which shall be under the care and management of the said com-
missioners, or if ?,ny person shall utter, or sell, or expose to sale, any vellum,
parchment, or paper, &c. having thereupon the impression of any such
forged or counterfeited mark, every person so offending, and being thereof
convicted, shall be adjudged guilty of felony, and shall suffer as a felon,
without benefit of clergy." I will now lay before you the evidence by
whicli we propose to establish this charge against the prisoner.
A person of the name of Taylor, being desirous of borrowing upon the
security of an estate the sum of 180/., of a Friendly Benefit Society, called
the Clothiers' Society, sent tlie title deeds of his estate to the office of the
prisoner, who as you will have already collected is an attorney ; to enable
him to make out the necessary security, and who accordingly prepared
a mortgage deed. This deed bears date the 13th of September 1812;
but whether it was executed at that time we do not know, but it was
executed some time before February in the ensuing year, because we find
that on the 12th February it was registered at the proper office at Wake^
VOL, I. 4 E
578 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
field. At what period the stamp upon tliis deed, which we allege to be a
forged one, was affixed to this deed we have no means of proving, but it
must have been previous to its passing into the hands of Thompson the
steward, who deposited it in the box of the society, where it remained
until it was taken out for the purpose of this inquiry. That this is the
deed delivered by the prisoner to Thompson, I shall prove beyond all
doubt. Gentlemen, I shall prove to your entire satisfaction, that the
stamp affixed to tnis deed is a forged one, and we sliall also offer the
strongest evidence to convince you it was forged by the prisoner, and
uttered by him, knowing it to be forged. But before I enter directly upon
tliis proof, it may be proper to state to you something of the manner in
which the business of the Stamp-office is managed, particularly with
respect to the state and manner in which stamps are issued from it, but
wliich statement I shall prove by evidence. It will be clearly proved to
you, that stamps are not issued from the office in detached labels, to be
afterwards affixed to the diffi^rent instruments, but are stamped upon the
paper or parchment on which the instrument or deed is to be prepared,
and the imjiression is made with an engine of such power, that the impres-
sion made by it is visible on the back of the parchment. This is a circum-
stance of some importance to be attended to in this inquiry. I would also
observe to you that on all the stamped parchments, issued by the Stamp-
office in London, the words " This Indenture," are pi'inted from an engraved
plate in large characters. These circumstances will be fully proved by the
evidence of the gentlemen from the Stamp-office, whom I shall call before
you. The prisoner did not choose to have his skins from the Stamp-office,
but provided them himself, and employed an engraver in Leeds, to engrave
him a plate, or rather two plates with the words " This Indenture," in
characters resembling those issued by the Stamp-office, and from these
plates he had impressions taken upon skins at various times. I do not
mention this with a view to prejudice the prisoner, or to insinuate anything
to his disadvantage, because he had a right to prepare his own skins, and
send them to be stamped, if he chose it ; but I mention it because it will
be necessary to explain part of the evidence which I shall lay before you,
and to show the manner in which (as we allege) the offi^nce imputed to
the prisoner has been committed.
Gentlemen, the whole of the stamp affixed to this deed is not false and
counterfeited ; the impression of the king's arms and the " device," are
part of the genuine stamp, but the words, " Two Pounds," which denote
the value of it, are forged, and tlie way in which we account for it is this ;
we say that the stamp affixed to this deed has been taken from some other
deed, and affixed by some cement to this, and that the former denominating
words have been obliterated, and the words " Two Pounds," impressed
by some die or stamp, resembling that used for denoting the duty of two
pounds by the commissioners of stamps. Gentlemen, I state it without
hesitation, as the law, and I am sure his lordship concurs with me, that
the forgery of any material part of any stamp or die, or other instrument,
is as much a forgery, as if the Avhole of it was actually forged: and the
words which denote the value of the stamp, must imquestionably be con-
sidered as a most material part of it, and the person wlio has done this, ov
aided the doing of it, or caused it to be done, is guilty of forgery. That
this stamp was not affixed to the deed at the Stamp-office, and in the usual
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 579
manner may be made evident to an inexperienced eye ; for it will be proved
to you, that those parchments which have passed throuoh tlie stampinor
engine have a visible impression of the stamp on the back of the skin,
which is not the case in this deed ; the stamp of which has been transferred
from some other instrument. These circumstances would alone form a
strong presumption against tlie prisoner : but the next branch of evidence
I shall adduce, will convert this presumption into certainty ; for I shall
prove to you, that he employed an engraver at Leeds to make him thirteen
or fourteen dies, suitable for the purpose of making any impression, resem-
bling the words which denote the value that are upon the stamps used by
the commissioners. I have the impression from those dies now in my
hand, and it will be proved to you that the numerals and words " II
Pounds," impressed upon the stamp of the deed, which I will lay before
the court, is an impression from one of those dies. These dies, gentlemen,
were found in the possession of the prisoner, under the circumstances I
shall shortly state to you. When the rumour of these transactions first
came out, the house of the prisoner was searched by the officers of justice ;
the prisoner was not at home, but in a room which was locked and broken
open by the officers, was found upon a table a box containing these dies ;
and on a further search, a number of old deeds were found, from which
the stamps bad been cut off, and also a number of articles material
for throwing light on this subject, which will be produced to you.
Perhaps it may not be necessary to point out to j-ou the manner in which
the prisoner would be benefited by this transfer, and forgery of stamps.
But as it will complete the statement, I will just add that by taking the
stamps from old instruments, and affixing them upon new ones, he was
enabled to put into his pocket the whole amount of the duty, as he would
of course charge the nominal value of the stamps to his clients, and where
the denominating value was not for the sum he wished, we presume that
it might be changed by the use of these dies. I think I have before stated,
that we shall prove the uttering of this deed to Mr. Thompson. This,
gentlemen, is a short detail of the circumstances, from which we contend,
that you must come to the conclusion, that the prisoner forged, or procured
to be forged, this stamp, and that it was uttered by him, or with his
privity, he knowing it to be forged. It is for you, gentlemen, after hearing
the evidence which shall be laid before you, on the part of the prosecution,
and for the prisoner, with the observations and recapitulation of the learned
judge, to decide iipon his guilt or innocence, and with your decision the
prosecutors will be satisfied. If, having heard the whole of the case, any
reasonable doubt remains upon your minds, the prisoner ought to have the
benefit of that doubt, and in that case you ought to acquit him ; but if
you find the circumstances which go to prove the guilt of tlie prisoner so
strong and well connected, as fully to satisfy you upon the subject, it will
then be a duty you owe to your oaths, to God, and your country, to find
the prisoner guilty. The prisoner, to use the impressive language of the
law, has put himself upon God and his country — which country you are ;
and I fttl convinced tliat your verdict will be such as will be just to the
prisoner, and to the public justice of the country.
AVitnesses were then called, who proved the material circimistances
related by the learned counsel in his opening speech, as to the drawing
the deed, and depositing it with the steward of the society. The evidence
580 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
as to the practice of the Stamp-office, and the forgery of the stamp in
question, was as follows : —
]VIr. Abraham Smith stated, that he was one of the stampers at the
Stamp-office, in London, and had been in that situation sixteen or seven-
teen years. Being requested to state the manner in which the operation of
stampinoi- was performed, he said, that when the stamping fur the day was
concluded, the dies were put into strong-boxes, placed in the strong-room
and locked up. Tiiey were taken into the room and delivered out to the
stampers by one of the clerks of the office, who kept the key of the room-
No labels were ever on any occasion stamped without being attached to
the parchment, and of course no stamps could ever be issued detached
from the parchment or paper on which the instrument was intended to
be executed. Tlie die for the two-pound stamps had not been varied ; the
die was fixed in an engine, which struck the impression with great force.
On lookino- at the deed, witness stated that he had no hesitation in saying,
that the numeral " II " and the word " Pounds" were false and counterfeit,
and wexe not a genuine impression from the die used by the commissioners;
but that the device of the King's arms and the rest of the stamps were
genuine. Witness then proceeded to point out the difference between the
impression of the genuine stamp, and that affixed to the die in question,
which partly consisted in a variation of the semicircle, and in a further
difference of the depth and entire appearance of the denominating part of
the stamp in question. This difference, he said, arose from the circum-
stance that in the genuine stamp the whole impression was struck at
once, both the King's arms and the letters, but that in that on the deed
now in his hands, it was evident that the numeral letters " II " had been
impressed by one instrument, and the word " Pounds" by another; and
from which the original words denoting the value had been by some means
erased. Witness then examined the back of the deed, and said, it was clear
that the stamp had not been impressed upon it at the office, because if it
had, the impression would have penetrated the parchment, and made an
indention on the back. Upon the whole, witness stated it as his decided
opinion that the stamp shown him was f^ilse and counterfeit. The witness
was cross-examined by Mr. Scarlett, and admitted that the impression of the
King's arms, and all parts of it, with the exception of the words denoting
the value, were genuine ; and that the stamp had undoubtedly at some
time or other been issued from the office.
William Kappen, Esq. stated that he was secretary to the Stamp-office,
and had in October last been employed twenty-four or twenty-five years
in that office, though not the whole of the time in the situation he then
occupied. He was perfectly acquainted with the various dies used by the
office, and the manner in which tlie general business of the office was con-
ducted. The deed being handed to him he examined it with great attention,
and then stated that the " II " and the word " Pounds " were not impressed
bv the stamp used by the commissioners, but that the rest of the stamp
was genuine. Witness then produced a paper wiiich contained an impres-
sion from the II Pound stamp used by the commissioners, which he stated
to liave been sstruck in his presence, and pointed out to the court and jury
the respects in which the impression of the forged stamp differed from that
produced by him. Witness having completed his description, said he had
not the least hesitation in stating that that part of the stamp shown to him
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 581
which denoted the value, was false and counterfeit : he also stated, that the
back of the deed bore no resemblance to the impression of the stampa
struck at the office, which made an impression through tlie parcliment
perfectly \isible on the other side of the skin, being impressed with great
force by the engine, which completed the wliole of the stamp at once.
Witness was cross-examined by Mr. Littledale. He stated that the com-
missioners continued the use of the dies in these cases where they were
applicable after any augmentation of the duties, and this they were em-
powered to do by act of parliament. After any augmentation of the
duties, the commissioners had impressions taken of all the dies in use, from
which they selected such as were applicable to the new duties, and
impressions of these were struck in tlie presence of the commissioners, or
tlie major part of them. These impressions were put into a book, and
signed by the officers employed in that department, and the dies from
which these impressions were taken, continued to be used until some
further alteration took place in the duties. The office never sold stamps
to private individuals, but they were furnished to the public through the
medium of the stamp distributors. Ho also stated, that no stamp was
ever printed on any separate label, detached from the papers or parchment
on which the instrument was to be executed. But he added, that if any
])erson should send an unexecuted parchment or instrument to stamp, to
the head office, it would be stamped upon the payment of the proper
duty.
Evidence as to the discovery of the forged dies, in the office of the pri-
soner, was next adduced ; and on the cross-examination of the witnesses, an
effort was made to show that a person named Jacques, who had been the
informant against the prisoner, might have been implicated in placing the
dies in the position in which they were found, and that lie might have
been induced to take that course, in consequence of a threatened prosecu-
tion by the prisoner, in whose service he had been as clerk, for embez-
zlement. Two witnesses were called, who were engravers, and wlio had
prepared the copper plates of " This Indenture," printed on tlie deeds, and
also the dies for counterfeiting the words " II Pounds. ' Mr. Topham,
the engraver, who was last called, however, failed in proving very
distinctly, that the impressions on the stamp alleged to be forged were
taken from the dies which he had prepared. The officers of stamps
expressed their belief that they were so taken from the dies. Upon the
jiroduction of the detached stamps found at the prisoner's house, it was
stated that in their present state they were useless, because although the
Stamp-office returned the value of stamps which were spoiled, yet they
would not do so unless when attached to the parchment. Those stamps
were also proved to have been detached from the original deeds with some
object, as they were found enclosed in parcels in papers, with indorsements
in the prisoner's hand-writing, denoting their amount and value.
The evidence for the prosecution having been concluded,
Mr. Scarlett rose and said, " My Lord, I have tv^'O objections, which I
will submit to the consideration of your lordship, which will, as I conceive,
be fatal to this prosecution. There are two facts which the prosecutor is
bound to make out before he can substantiate the allegations in this indict-
ment. The first is, that the die or stamp, respecting which the forgery is
alleged to have been committed, was a die used by the dii-eetion and under
the authority of the commissioners of the stamps. Now, my lord, I contend
582 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
that there is no evidence of this fact to go to tlie jury, because I confidently
submit to your lordsliip, tliat parole evidence, which is all they have
oft'ered, is not admissible under the circumstances which have been given in
evidence, because it is an axiom in law, that the best evidence must always
be given which the case will admit of; your lordsliip has heard from Mr,
Kappen that the stamps authorised to be used by the commissioners, were
in their presence impressed in a book. This book has not been produced,
and as no evidence has been given to show that it was lost or destroyed, parole
evidence was not admissible to show the nature of its contents. That it is
an essential part of the case, that the die should have been directed or
authorised to be used by the commissioners of the stamps, is evident from a
reference to the 52 of the King, section 7, which states, that if any person
after the passing of that act, shall forge or counterfeit, or cause to be
forged or counterfeited, any mark, stamp, die, or plate, which in pursuance
of any act of parliament shall have been provided, made, or used, by
or under the direction of the commissioners appointed to manage the
duties on stamped paper, and so on. Now, my lord, what I contend
for is tliis, that the entry in that book is the only proof that this
die of £,'2 was used by or under the direction and authority of the com-
missioners, and that this entry can only be proved by the production of
the book itself. Supposing, my lord, that the book had been produced,
and that upon inspection it should turn out that there was no stamp of 21.
inserted there, in this case your lordship must allow that the prosecution
would fail ; but as the best evidence that it does contain this entry has not
been given, it must be presumed in favour of the prisoner, that the book
does not contain this entry. Had there been a written order in the usual
acceptation of the term by the commissioners for the use of such and such
stamps, your lordship would not have admitted parole evidence to be given
of the contents of this order, unless satisfactory proof was given that it was
destroyed, or could not be produced ; and I humbly submit to your lord •
ship, that the entry of the impressions of the dies in this book renders .t
completely of the nature of a written document, and places it Avithin the
same rules of law. I therefore humbly submit to your lordship, that there
is no legal evidence to go before the jury, on this material allegation in the
indictment, and that the prisoner is entitled to be acquitted.
Mr. Justice Le Blanc. — I think there is evidence to go to the jury. The
commissioners gave their order by parole, they did not give a written order.
Mr. Scarlett. — The directions to tlie officers to impress the stamps in the
book was certainly by parole, but I humbly submit to your lordship, that
when the impressions were made in a book, that book must be considered
in the light of a written order.
Mr. Justice Le Blanc. — I cannot take it to be an appointment inwriting ;
and I consider the evidence which has been given as to the use of stamps
as perfectly admissible, and as proof to goto the jury.
His lordship having overruled this objection,
Mr. Scarlett said, 1 will now trouble your lordship witb respect to my
second objection, which I consider as the most materiai and as decisive of
the fate of the prosecution. The prisoner is substantially charged with
forging a die or stamp used by the commissioners, with an intent to defraud
the revenue. Now in the first place it is clearly proved by the gentlemen
from the Stamp-office, tliat the whole of the stamp, except the words " two
pounds," is genuine, and also that the stamp has been issued from tlie
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 583
office. I need not insist before your lordship that to constitute a forgery
tiiere must be an alteration or imitation of some material part of a die,
stamp, or instrument. In the present case it is alleged, that the " II
Pounds " in the stamp which has been produced in coui't is not an impres-
sion from the genuine stamp. But in order to substantiate this charge,
tiie prosecutors ought to have gone much further, and havo proved that
there had been an alteration in the value of the stamp. When the stamp
was issued from the office it must have borne some vakie, and for aught
tliat appears in evidence, it miglit have been of the value of 2/., and there-
fore I liave aright to presume that it was of that value, and that whatever
alteration may have taken place in it, has only been a re-impression of the
original words denoting the value of it. Now, my lord, I contend, that
if this was the only alteration made in this stamp, the charge against
the prisoner cannot be sustained. I will put a case. Suppose a man erase
from a Bank-of-England note, a five-pound note for instance ; he obliterates,
suppose, by some chemical process, Fhie Pounds, and then impresses upon
it the same value. This clearly would not be a forgery, nor could he be
convicted, unless it could be proved that this note had previously been of
a lower value, and this would be a case exactly resembling the present
prosecution. There are two circumstances necessary to constitute a for-
gery, the counterfeiting or altering the material part of an instrument, that
whicli afi^ects its value, and the doing it with an intent to defraud. I
contend therefore, with great confidence, that neither of these has been
proved in the present case, because no alteration affecting the value of the
stamp has been even attempted to be proved ; and that unless it can be
proved that the alteration was of such a nature as to alter its value, and
make it pass for a different sum to what it originally bore, the case on the
part of the prosecution cannot be sustained, and the prisoner must be
discharged from this prosecution. Mr. Scarlett dvvelt on this point a
considerable time, placing it in various points of view, and illustrating it
by reference to similar eases.
]\Ir. Littledale and Mr. Williams followed on the same side.
Mr. Park on the other side, urged that the objections could not prevail ;
and that the stamp having been altered in its essential part — that which
gave it operation, the forgery was clearly made out.
Sir Simon Le Blanc gave his decision in the following terms : " I have
been anxious to hear and to attend to all that has been offered in support of
the objections taken by the counsel for the prisoner. The charge against
the prisoner is substantially this, that by a false die or mark he impressed
or caused to be impressed the resemblance of a die used by the commis-
sioners on a parchment-deed, with an intent to defraud the revenue. To
this, two objections have been urged ; the first objection is, that evidence
has not been given, that the die of which this impression is alleged to be
the resemblance, was a die used by the direction and authority of the com-
missioners of the stamps ; and the second objection denies that any forgery
has been committed. AVith respect to the first objection the court has
already expressed its opinion, that there is evidence to go to the jury of
the use of the die by the commissioners, and this is all that is necessary to
be given in evidence. The Act of the 48 George III., which imposes this
duty, and the 52 George III., which unites in one act all the laws inflict-
ing the punishment of death for ofi"ences against the revenue laws, both
584 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
agree in this. Tlie 48 of George III. in reference to tliis point enacts,
" Tliat if any person shall forge or counterfeit, or cause to be forged or
counterfeited, any stamp or die, which shall be provided, made, or used, in
pursuance of this Act, or of any former Act," shall be adjudged guilty of
felony, &c. The 52 George III. after stating "that if any person shall
after the passing of this Act, forge, &c. any mark, stamp or die, used by
or under the direction of the commissioners," &c. goes on to add, " or by
or under the direction of any person or persons legally authorised on that
behalf." The court therefore holds, that the use by the commissioners is
all that is requisite, and that of this use there is evidence to submit to the
consideration of the jury. The court therefore does not consider this
objection as valid. The other objection proceeds on the ground, that no
forgery has been committed, inasmuch as it has not been proved, that any
alteration has been made in the value of the stamp. It is contended, that
as a considerable part of the stamp has been proved to be genuine, and
must have been issued from the Stamp-office, with words denoting its
value, this value, for aught that appears to the contrary, may have been
the same that is now impressed upon it, and that in fact there has only
been a re-impression of the same words which were upon the stamp when
it was first issued. And upon this assumption it is contended, that as no
material part of the instrument has been altered, there has been no legal
forgery. But it is unnecessary to give any opinion on the validity of this
inference, because the foundation has not been laid, on which alone there
could be a reason for examining it, there having been no evidence given
to prove that this stamp was originally of the value of two pounds, and it
undoubtedly lay upon the prisoner to prove this. For the case stands
thus : There is a forged impression of a die upon an instrument, proved to
have been in the possession of the prisoner, under circumstances which
certainly call for explanation, and also in whose possession a number of
dies are found, made too by his own order, and two of which appear to
have been used to make an impression, an impression proved to be false
and counterfeit upon this instrument. If these facts are not accounted for
by evidence, or explained somehow or other, the presumption in law is,
that this false impression was forged for the purpose of increasing or
altering its value, and for the purpose of defrauding the revenue. This
presumption thus raised it is for the prisoner to repel by evidence, but
there is certam\y prima facie evidence to goto a jury. That the alteration
of a material part of an instrument is a forgery has been solemnly deter-
mined, by all the Judges, in a modern case, so that it cannot now be called
in question. I cannot therefore, on these grounds, stop the cause from
going on." The learned Judge concluded by calling on the prisoner for
his defence.
Mr. Blackburn, who laboured under great and evident emotion,
addressed the Court and Jury in the following terms : —
" In the painful and anxious situation in which I am unhappily placed,
I am ill-fitted for the task of addressing you on this occasion. Agitated
as I am between hope and fear, I can only solemnly assure you that I
never forged a stamp in my life ; but the public mind has been prejudiced
against me by unfounded reports and advertisements, containing vile
insinuations against me. But, gentlemen, I entreat and charge you upon
your oaths, that you banish all that you have heard out of this court from
TIIH NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 585
your minds, and all that I have to wish from you is, that you be influ-
enced only by the evidence, and that you will do unto me as you would
wish to be done unto, were you placed in my unfortunate situation. I have
)»ractised as an attorney among my townsmen and neighbours with credit
and respectability for twenty-seven years ; you will hear from them upon
their oaths, tlie character I have maintained during that period. In
making my defence, I liave many great and, indeed, insuperable difficulties
to contend witn : I am called to furnish an answer, and that by evidence,
against a charge which I never heard of until I entered tliis court, for
until I heard the indictment read I had no knowledge of that which they
have imputed to me by this indictment, and of course it was absolutely im-
possible for me- to be prepared witli evidence to rebut tlie charge. With
respect to the deed in question, I know nothing of it, it has been long out
of my possession, and it is clear by the evidence of tlie witnesses for the
prosecution, that it has been very much exposed. I would only observe
that if it had not had a regular stamp affixed to it, the engrossing clerk
must have seen it, and it must likewise have been observed at the office
when tlie deed was registered. When my house was searched, my account-
books were taken away, which has deprived me of all means of tracing the
deed in question, or of proving where the stamp was bought ; I had
therefore no clue to direct my search. With respect to the spoiled stamps,
I would observe, that they have lain by me a long time, and that the
jieriod of claiming the allowance for them has long elapsed. Tt often
happens, that after a deed is engrossed, the execution may be delayed a
very considerable time beyond the period allowed for claiming the allow-
duce, and if ultimately it should not be executed the stamp would be
entirely lost ; this will account for the spoiled stamps which in along series
of time have been accumulated. I declare to you, gentlemen, that the
deed in question had upon it a regular stamp when it was executed in my
office, and I trust you will not presume anything against me ; that you
will attend only to the evidence, and that you will decide upon my fate
with the same candour as you would wish in similar circumstances to have
shown to you. My life is in your hands. I shall bow with resignation to
your decision, and I trust that your decision will be right."
As many as twenty- four gentlemen of the highest respectability were
called to sptak to the prisoner's character, and they all joined in declaring
that they believed him incapable of committing such an offijnce as that
■which was imputed to him.
The learned Judge then proceeded to sum up the case, and the Jury
having retired from the Court, for about a quarter of an hour, returned
with a verdict of Guilty.
Mr. Blackburn and Mr. Wainewright were subsequently put to the
bar together and arraigned upon an indictment, in which they were
charged jointly with removing a stamp from one deed and affixing it to
another, but the evidence being inconclusive, they were declared to be
Not guilty.
The court during the whole day was crowded to excess, and the
greatest interest appeared to be excited amongst the inhabitants of Leeds,
where the prisoners had lived, many of whom were present. Mr. Black-
burn was dressed in a suit of mourning, with his hair powdered. He
cnnducced himself with great propriety during the trial, but upon the
VOL. J. 4 F
58) THE NEW XEWGATE CALENDAR.
verdict of Guilty being returned he appeared to be completely unmnnned.
He paid no attention whatever to the proceedings in the second trial, noi
was he observed to take any notice of his fellow-prisoner, Mr. Wainewright,
upon his being placed by his side.
Upon the Wednesday after the trial, sentence of death was passed upon
the unhappy man, and on Friday' the 24th March Mr. Justice Le Blanc
quitted Yox-k, leaving him for execution on Saturday the 8th April. The
interval was brief, and his friends determined to lose no time in applying
to the Prince Regent for a mitigation of his sentence. A petition was
accordingly prepared, praying for the exercise of the royal clemency
towards him, and in the course of two or three days, this application for
mercy Avas signed by upwards of three thousand persons, chiefly the fellow-
townsmen of the unfortunate prisoner. On Sunday, the 26th March, Mr.
Elliot Garrett, of Dewsbury, one of the attorneys employed in conducting
the defence of the prisoner, went to London, for the purpose of presenting
the petition to the Prince Regent, and of taking such other steps as should
appear likely to contribute to the attainment of this object of the petition.
Mrs. Blackburn, the wife of this unfortunate gentleman, also repaired to
London, with the view if possible of throwing herself at the feet of his
Royal Highness to supplicate for the life of her unhappy husband. Every
means which zeal and friendship could suggest was used to give eflfect to
this petition : applications were made to persons of influence and consider-
ation in the state, to secure their co-operation, but, unhappily, without
success ; and every hope of procuring eitlier a mitigation or suspension of
the dreadful sentence of the law was extinguished by the following letter
from Viscount Sidmouth, his Majesty's principal Secretary of State for the
Home Department.
Whitehall, 1st April, 1816.
" Sir, — I have laid before his Royal Highness the petition which I
received on behalf of Joseph Blackburn, a prisoner under sentence of death
in the Castle of York, for forgery ; and I am under the painful necessity
of acquainting you, that it did not appear to me consistent with my public
duty, to advise his Royal Highness to remit or suspend the execution of
the sentence passed upon this unfortunate person.
" I have the honour to be,
" Sir, your most obedient servant,
(Signed) " Sidmouth."
Before the result of this application to the Prince Regent was known to
either the prisoner or to his friends at Leeds, it was deemed advisable to
submit to Mr. Justice Le Blanc, who was then at Lancaster, certain
aflidavits.
The object of these aflidavits was to show that the deed was executed
on the day it purported to bear date, which was on the 30th September
1812, and that as the dies spoken to by Mr. Topham were not delivered
at the office of Mr. Blackburn until the following month, it was quite
impossible that any forgery of the stamp on the deed in question, could
have been made by him at the time it was executed.
This application like that to the Crown was unsuccessful, and the
unhappy prisoner having received an intimation that no hope remained
tliat his life would be spared, he proceeded anxiously and ardently to apply
himself to his religious oftioes. He was attended up to the time of his
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 587
execution by the Rev. John Hamilton, the minister of a dissenting con-
gregation at Leeds, to whose religious exhortations he paid tl^ utmost
attention. He continued for some days to labour under a despondency
approaching to despair, arising as he himself stated, not from the dread of
temporal death, but from a deep consciousness of the aggravated guilt of
his past life, his total neglect of religious observances, and his gross indul-
gence in forbiddt-n sensual pleasures. He stated " tliat the irregularities
of his past life had been so great as to have deserved that death which had
been awarded against him for an offence of a different nature." He added,
'" that these crimes had been committed against light and knowledge, and
tliat he had only repented of them, and thought upon religion, when every
jjleasure had been cut off', and every earthly hope had become extinct." We
rejoice however in being able to add, that in a few days some faint rays of
hope penetrated the gloom which oppressed his mind ; and as the merciful
provisions of the gospel were unfolded to him, and its encouraging
promises pressed upon his consideration, these hopes became brighter, and
cast, if not a brilliant, yet a cheering my of light on the gloomy path he
had yet to tread.
On Thursday, the 6th of April, he attended the chapel, and heard with
profound attention, a sermon preached by the Rev. Mr. Richardson, who
had some religious conversation with him after the other prisoners had
retired. On Friday afternoon the prisoner had a last interview with his
brothers ; his unhappy wife had come to York on tlie same painful errand,
but on Mr. Hamilton representing to her that an interview might disturb
the tranquillity of her husband's last hours, she abstained from pressing
the request which she had made. She had seen him only once since his
conviction, and the meeting was of tlie most distressing nature.
On the night before the ext!Cution, Mr. Hamilton continued in prayer
with the wretched prisoner up to a late hour, and he repeatedly expressed
himself perfectly resigned and ready at any moment to meet his fate.
On Saturday, at about half-past eleven o'clock, ]Mr. Blackburn was called
from his cell, and, tlie necessary arrangements having been made, he was
conducted to the scaffold supported by jMr. Hamilton. He walked with a
firm, unhesitating step, and perfectly erect. It was a quarter before twelve
o'clock when the procession arrived upon the platform. The prisoner
immediately kneeled down upon a stool provided for the occasion, with his
face averted from the numerous spectators, who were assembled to witness
this sad and melancholy spectacle.
The reverend gentleman who had with so much zeal and unwearied
assiduity attended him in prison, to speak to him the words of peace, did
not shrink from the painful task of accompanying him through this last
painful stage of his earthly pilgrimage ; placing himself near the prisoner,
he in a low tone of voice asked him some questions relative to the state of
his mind with respect to his approaching change, and particularly with
respect to his entire dependence on the mercy of God through the merits
and mediation of the Messiah. — To these inquiries he replied, " I have
no other, I wish no other trust." Mr. Hamilton now inquired if it was
his wish that he should pray with him, and he eagerly replied, " If your
feelings on this occasion are not too much agitated, I shall be greatly
obliged." Kneeling down close to the prisoner, who kept his eyes closed
during the whole of this sad solemnity, he then offered up a prayer at once
583 TIIF. NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
sclcmn and tender, and adapted equally to the former character and present
sitiiatiuq of the humble penitent before him. Mr. Blackburn appeared
deej)ly to feel and fervently to join in this last act of devotion, and when
tlie minister came to that comprehensive model of devotion, the Lord's
Praver, the prisoner accompanied him in an audible voice.
When Mr, Hamilton rose up from prayer, he took ]\Ir. Blackburn by
tlie hand, and having commended him to the mercy and protection of the
Almighty, took a sad adieu of him, conjuring him that when he suffered
death, and was entering eternity, he should aim at no higher strain than
this, " God be merciful to me a sinner." The poor sufferer grasped his
hand, and appeared reluctant to part; and in a voice rendered tremulous
by emotion, said, " May God Almighty bless and protect you." It now
only remained for the executioner to perform his part in the heart-rending
ceremony. Mr. Blackburn was assisted to rise, but it was evident that
the powerful emotion of his mind had impaired his strength, and the \mder
jailor supported him in his arms until the fatal cord was placed round his
neck, and properly adjusted. At this awful moment he ejaculated, " O
Lord God Almighty, have mercy upon me, and preserve my soul alive."
These were the last words he was heard to utter, as the drop instantly fell.
It is painful to add that the noose of the cord had, by some means or
other, slipped from its proper situation, and he appeared much convulsed.
After he had been suspended about two minutes, the executioner endea-
voured to replace the cord in its original situation ; and tliough he suc-
ceeded in tliis attempt, it seemed to harrow up the feelings of every person
present, and produced a stronger sensation of distress than any part of this
mournful ceremony. In about six or seven minutes from the fiiUing of the
drop, the unfortunate man appeared insensible of further suffering. The
body, after remaining suspended the usual time, was put into a coffin, and
delivered to his friends. His remains were interred at an early hour on
Monday, at Rothwell, a village near Leeds.
JEREMIAH GRANT
EXECUTED FOR BURGLARY.
The exploits of this celebrated Irish freebooter gained for him a notoriety
dlmost equal to that of his successor Captain Rody. Grant was the son
of a poor peasant in the Queen's County, and early evinced a predilection
for a life of idleness. His progress in literature amoimted to what his
countryman shot at, " nothing at all ;" but his fertile genius obviated his
misfortune in being supremely ignorant of reading and writing, and his
daring spirit triumphed over all minor obstacles. Having reached the age
of nineteen his "public life" began, for at that time he commenced his
depredations upon his fellow-countrymen in the capacity of a higliwayman,
and his daring, and the fame of his exploits, in the course of the ensuing
two years gained him so much celebrity among others of the same character,
tliat at twenty-one he was chosen " captain" of a select band of " gentle-
men " who " followed the road."
His depredations for several years were confined to his native county,
and there his improvident liberality secured him the esteem and blessings
of the lower orders, while the terror of his name and the dread of liis
:'My^>cov€^iy. €>f^ Ots^^i^acny <Syt<z/K^ a/fz^Aca/O^a/n^.
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR. 589
vengeance kept those of a higher rank in complete suhjectlon to his
authority.
Like Rob Roy, he levied an annual tax on the farmers, which they cheer-
fully paid, as it secured them from the nocturnal visits of his followers ;
and the Captain was so rigid a disciplinarian, tliat any dereliction of duty
in this respect was punished with a heavy hand. His exploits soon
became too notorious, however, to pass unnoticed by the authorities, and
large rewards were offered for his apprehension ; but, although he was as
well known as the " Hill of Howth," he was to be seen at every fair and
pattern in the country, and had a more numerous acquaintance than the
village doctor. At every farmer's table he was welcome, and the cottaoffs
that gave him shelter were sure of reward ; for he freely shared tlie
contributions he obtained with danger.
"With the ladies he was a second Macheath, and more wives than one
claimed him for their husband ; and it is reported that he was frequently
complimented on his person and manner, by the mistresses of those houses
which he visited without the formality of an invitation. But it must be
observed that he never forgot his accustomed humanity and politeness ;
and, unless when attacked by the police, he never did an individual a
personal injury. His behaviour always evinced a degree of refinement
above his education and birth; and even those who suffered from his
depredations never spoke of him but as an "accomplished villain."
His character at length grew so notorious in the Queen's County, that a
consultation of magistrates was held for the purpose of devising means for
his apprehension, and in consequence of the measures they adopted several
of Grant's followers were brought to justice, and died, as tlieir Captain
expressed it, of the " gallows fever." For some time his knowledge of the
country, and the partiality of the peasantry towards him, aided him in
evading the pursuit which was made after him ; but a traitor was found,
and Grant was delivered into the hands of the Philistines.
The gentry of the countrj', and ladies of the first rank, crowded to the
jail of Maryborough to see the " bold outlaw ;" and it was supposed that
their impertinent curiosity so much affected his sensibility, that he took
his departure one night from prison, through a window, having first
contrived to cut the bars that guarded it.
Dreading another specimen of the rudeness of the Irish aristocracy, he
prudently resolved to leave the Slieve-bloom mountains, and with the
remnant of his banditti, he removed to the wood of Killoughram, in the
county of Wexford, within four miles of the town of Enniscorthy. Here
he continued for some time, and made frequent visits to the neighbouring
towns, where he was known by the name of Cooney.
In the March of 1816 he made a journey to his native county, where he
robbed the house of Thomas Cambie, Esq., of money and plate to a large
amount. Mrs. Cambie was at home, and he behaved with so much polite-
ness, that she ordered him supper and wine. The captain being impatient
of delay, applied his teeth to extract a cork from a bottle ; upon which the
mistress observed " it was a pity to spoil his fine white teeth," and imme-
diately stood up and procured him a corkscrew. Grant, on his departure,
took the liberty of borrowing Mr. Cambie's horse and gig, in which he
rode to his retreat in the wood of Killougliram.
The Captain's occasional depredations in the county of Wexford excitt d
500 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
great alarm, for a robbery there then was a thing of very rare occurrence.
Notice was at lengtli given of the banditti retreat, and Archibald Jacoli
marclied the military out of Enniscorthy and surrounded the wood. Some
of the soldiers' and yeomaniy penetrated the fastness, and in the thickest
part of the shade they discovered the " Robber Chief," and five of his
followers, on a bed of straw, in a romantic cave. The freebooters defended
themselves with desperate valour, and before they surrendered, wounded
five of the military. After they were secured, their retreat was found
to contain all the necessary implements for housebreaking, and abun-
dance of arms. The captain was committed to Wexford jail in the name
of Cooney ; but the evidence against him being doubtful, it was appre-
hended that he would be acquitted, when, unfortunately for him, it was
discovered that he was the celebrated Captain Grant. The jailor of Mary-
borough now claimed his body, and he was forthwith transmitted to his
former abode, only just in time, as it was eventually found out, to prevent
his aoain escaping from the jail in which he was confined, in obedience to
and in conformity with a plan which had been matured, and which was
to be put into operation on the very night on which he was removed.
His trial came on at ]\Iaryborough, August the 16th 1816, when he
was foimd guilty of the burglary in oMr. Cambie's house. To the question
" What reason he had why judgment and sentence of death should not be
passed on him ? " he replied in the most firm, collected, and, indeed, feeling
manner, " My lord, I only beg of the Court some short time to arrange
things before my departure for another place ; not in the idle hope of escape
or pardon, but to make restitution to the persons who have suffered by my
bad line of life. I have been visited in my cell by some blessed people,
who have, thank God, given this turn to my mind, and to which I implore
your lordship's attention."
Sentence was then immediately passed upon him ; but in obedience to
his request, his execution was deferred until the 29th of August, when he
met his fate with decent fortitude and pious resignation.
THOMAS CARSON.
COXVICTED OF MURDER.
The Irish arc capital actors, but generally give to tragic parts a comic
effect. The following case of successful adroitness is only one out of many
such tricks played off in the prisons of the sister kingdom.
Thomas Carson and his brother John were tried at the jMeath assizes, in
the spring of 1816, for the wilful murder of a man named Cassidy. The
Carsons beloncred to a corps of yeomen ; and being Protestants, they were
privileged to carry arms. Of these, however, they made a bad use, and
turned them against one of his jMajesty's subjects, named Cassidy, whose
life they took away, through wanton cruelty, in Kilmainham Wood, in the
county of Meath. John was acquitted; but Thomas Carson was found
guilty, and ordered for execution on the following Friday morning-, at one
o'clock.
At five o'clock on Friday morning a brother of the prisoner wont to see
the unhappy culprit, and informed the jailor that Mr. Wainwright, the
THE NEAV NEWGATE CALENDAR. 591
clergyman, would attend in a short time to pray with and administer the
sacrament to his brother. The judge had, from humanity, directed tliat
his relations should have free access to the prisoner, so that his brother
was permitted to go into the condemned cell to him. Some time after tlie
jailor entered the cell, and said that the time was very short, and if tlie
clergyman was expected, they had better send for him. The brotlier offered
to go for him, and apparently retired. Shortly after Mr. Wainwright came ;
and being shown into the cell, continued a long time in prayer with the
prisoner. The time of execution approaeliiug, the jailor came in, accom-
panied by the prisoner's uncle. The clergyman told the prisoner he had
no time to lose — that his uncle had come, and would communicate witii
him in the administration of the sacrament. The prisoner entreated to be
allowed to pray a little longer, and appeared absorbed in devotion. At
length the jailor becoming quite impatient, he rose from the straw on
which he was kneeling, and welcomed his uncle. The latter instantly
exclaimed, " Good God ! how grief has altered him ! this cannot be
Tommy !" and looking nearer — " No," said lie, " this is Anthony Carson ! "
The clergyman was amazed — the jailer ran down stairs, and discovered
that the person whom he had sent for the clergyman was no other than the
convict himself, who had not thought proper to return.
Coming back into his cell, tlie jailor cried out, " Your brother is gone
off ! what shall I do ? I am ruined ! " — " Gone off ! " cried Anthony with
great surprise ; " Oli, he has taken away my big coat."
The two brothers served in the same corps, and were so alike in appear-
ance that Anthony came to the prison in a frize great-coat, which he gave
to the convict, who, thus disguised, passed all the doors of the prison, and
walked deliberately into the street, from whence, in great apparent afflic-
tion, he looked up at the preparation for execution, and passed on as if to
Mr. Wainwriglit's house.
Diligent search was made for the fugitive, but without effect. The
brother was detained, but the extent of his crime was a misdemeanour.
The case of this lucky prisoner clearly exemplified, in the language of
the prisoner about to receive judgment of death, that he did not believe he
was " safe in the hands" of his jailors.
The story runs thus : — An Irishman had been convicted of a robbery at
the Old Bailey sessions, for which he was brought up, with others at the
conclusion of the session, to receive judgment of death. The ready wit
and the natural disinclination of the Irisli to give a straightforward answer
to a question, are universally known and admitted. The prisoner in
question on being called on by Mr. Slielton, the officer of the court, in the
usual way, to declare wliat he had to say why sentence of death sliould not
be passed upon him, advanced to the front of the dock with a vacant stare,
and inquired " What was the question ?"
Mr. Slielton. — You have been convicted of robbery ; what have you to
say why sentence of death shall not be passed upon you, according to
law :"
Prisoner. — Faith, I have nothing much to say, except that I do not
think I am safe in your hands.
The answer was received with a loud burst of laughter, which even
the melanclioly nature of the scene c )uld n.t prevent the learned recorder
from ji iiiing in. The gravity of the court was, however, soiin again put to
592 THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.
the test. Sentence had been passed, and the prisoner was about to retire
from the bar, when he was unexpectedly called back by Mr. Shelton, who
demanded to know his age.
Prisoner. — Is it my age you mean ?
Mr. Shelton. — What is your ageV
Prisoner. — I believe I am pretty well as ould as ever I'll be.
Again the whole court was convulsed with laughter; but the wretched maB,
whose laughter -moving qualities were purely involuntary, was doomed even
at " the last scene of all," to raise the mirth of the spectators of his fate. He
was in due form taken from his cell, and the ordinary of the jail attending
him, he was conducted to the press-room to be bound, preparatory to his going
out to the scaflFold. His irons were removed, and his arms confined with
cords in the customary manner, but the willing compliance exhibited by
the wretched convict in the proceedings which had hitherto taken place, to
assist the executioner in performing his office, suddenly ceased. He sat
down on a bench, and in spite of the calls of Jack Ketch, and of
the sheriffs to accompany them in procession to the scaflFold, he remained
sullenly on the bench, where he had first taken up his position. " Come,"
at last urged Jack Ketch, " the time is arrived ;" but his coaxing words
and tone were unavailing. " The officers are waiting for you," said the
sheriflfs ; "can anything be done for you before you quit this world?"
No answer was returned. At length, said Jack Ketch, grown surly at
the long delay and the silence of the prisoner, " If you won't go, you
know I must carry you." " Then you may," said the prisoner, " for I'll not
walk." "Why not?" inquired the sheriff. " I'll not be instrumental to
my own death, ' hesitated the prisoner. " What do you mean ? " asked
the ordinary. " What do I mane ? " answered the unfortunate man. " I'll
not walk to my own destruction ;" and in this determination he remained,
and Jack Ketch and his assistants were eventually absolutely compelled to
carry him to the scaffold, where he was turned off, continuing in his
refusal to do anything which might be construed into " his being a party
to his own death."
END OP VOL. I.
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